She's So Unusual
by xVenusInFurs29x
Summary: Former rocker Vi Montrand wakes up strangely in Shane's camp after escaping Atlanta when her band's concert ends bloodily. She attempts to fit into their new world and fails miserably. Her only savior is hot headed Daryl Dixon, her complete opposite. What starts as an unusual and awkward bond between two outcasts becomes something intimate despite the danger around them.
1. She's So Unusual

**Author Note: I do not own any of the The Walking Dead in any of its formats. **

* * *

**She's So Unusual**

XXXXXX

The sky outside the square window was muggy-looking and grey, not the best welcoming anyone could receive when visiting a city you've only been to maybe twice in your life. The first time had been a blur because you were a young kid of six watching your daddy play to a moderately sized crowd at a venue and the second time was mind blowing considering now it was you at fifteen playing to a bigger crowd than your daddy's at a venue you've only seen that one time. Even later at eighteen, you were still a girl for all the crazy makeup plastered on your face and the ripped orange jeans that would later on become splashed with an open water bottle thrown by a hammered fan. A fan that would later be squirted by a super soaker during intermission. This was Jacqueline 'Vi' Montrand: fiery redhead lead singer of Smothering Lolita, prankster of pranksters and the poster child of all things considered possibly ungodly or bizarre as deemed by her manager which included the following: making bad jokes and snorting in radio interviews, placing whoopee cushions under the seats of audio techs during recording sessions not to mention singing bare foot in said sessions, and thinking bags of sprayed trash being ideal set pieces at the time...all high crimes, and not to ever forget making or buying clothes that constantly made the fashion disaster columns yet nonetheless became a fad for youth. Unfortunately, this resulted in being kept on strict leash by her record label. Vi would never understand it or fit in and so she pulled at the bit every time she got that look or that lecture. Why couldn't she be like her father or why couldn't she act like this artist or a young lady? Sometimes it stung and sometimes it didn't. It was a prison, a well regulated prison on how to act and what to record to make profits. And right now, entering Atlanta, felt like walking into a prison of a different kind.

The tour bus rumbled, one of the wheels finding a pot hole and jerking the redhead from her spot by the window. The sounds of laughter, talking, and guitar tuning filled up the bus quickly, returning the lead singer of Smothering Lolita from her thoughts and to reality.

"Hey, Vi!"

Vi let her thickly lined green eyes dart from the window to look at her best friend Tristan and scrunched her nose. Tristan was lanky and tall with long brown hair curling to his shoulders and hazel eyes that made the fan girls melt…well, except for Vi. He sat across from her in the booth, propping his Chucks on the table and looked out the window. His lip ring glimmered in the small gleam of sunlight.

"Did they finish Night of the Living Dead Part 2? I am so done hearing 'Brains!'being shouted." She made a gagging sound to emphasize her point.

Tristan smirked then nodded at the window. "The weather sucks out there. It must be an omen, huh?"

Vi rolled her eyes, but smiled and gave a small punch to his shoulder. The guys and the lone female bassist always teased her about her less than optimistic thoughts on bad weather when coming into a city they had to play in. Vi popped her lips and swiped her orange-red locks from her face then rested her chin in a pale hand with orange painted nails.

"Hey, make fun all you want. I got a bad feeling about this city."

Guitar tuning stopped and a voice boomed from the back.

"Did I hear I got a bad feeling about this drop?"

Vi shook her hands in the air and smirked at their pink haired bassist, Cassadi.

"Aliens? Really? If I only had a flamethrower..."

Tristan leaned forward on his elbows, grabbing her attention again and locked eyes with her own deep green ones. He let out a sigh and lowered his voice.

"Is this really about the weather or him?"

Vi blew out a stream of air, fogging up the window. She drew a smiley face and pulled away. It was a habit on the bus for her and no one dared face her wrath of peanut butter in their Vans if they erased it. She'd rather think of pranks than her washed up daddy probably sucking down Southern Comfort right now.

"No…its just the weather, Tris. Bad for my delicate complexion,"Vi sighed mockingly while primping her hair and winking.

"Promise?"

Vi leaned forward on her own small elbows and locked eyes with her friend. Silence filled the air before she giggled, followed by deep laughter from him. She knew she was forcing it, lying about what was deep down inside, but Tristan was excited and she really was too. Who else wouldn't kill to wear a torn tutu, anklets, and a mini top that read in all caps "Caution: Wild Animals Around" while jumping around and singing with your best friend shredding on his guitar?

"Yeah! You are such a dork, man."

"Okay, maybe, but I'm allowed to be at 21."

Tristan got up and held a hand out. Vi made a small face before grabbing it, leaping out of her seat and bouncing on the floor of the moving vehicle.

"Yeah, you are."

"Cool because I'd hate to piss off a redhead who owns a metal bat and sleeps with it like a teddy bear."

Vi put her hands on her waist before shrugging, flailing her hands in the air.

"What can I say? Its my comfort item."

A loud voice from the back boomed again.

"Hey Vi, I bought you a teddy bear for your birthday. That can be a new comfort item!"

Vi glared at Tristan's badly suppressed laugh. Everyone knew she didn't care for things like that but the others enjoyed jabbing at her, all in good fun because she knew they would defend her like blood kin any day and there were many times they had. She turned and looked in the back, one hand cupping around her ear.

"Did I hear Peter Pan? I got peanut butter somewhere…"

Laughter ensued followed by more tuning of guitars and their agent, a man with slicked hair and a New York accent, stalking past them to the bus driver with a strained face. The guy always looked strained, even laughing or talking loudly on his Blackberry.

"What do you mean the Northeast is running rampant with some illness and quarantines? They have a concert scheduled. I don't care that it might reach the South."

Vi scrunched her nose, letting those words try and sink in. The band had been stuck in a studio almost half the year, nearly living there and then touring for a week. Suffice to say, they weren't up to date on current events. She hoped the illness wasn't the flu because Lord knew how easy it was for her to get sick. Before she could think much deeper, she was interrupted.

Tristan tapped Vi on the shoulder and nodded at the window. Vi turned her head, orange and red hair flying, and saw the rising skyline of the city. Grey skyscrapers, highways and fast cars galore for the eye to see appeared before her.

"Welcome to Atlanta, everyone."

The rest of the band, the techs and even some friends whooped, hollered or tapped their guitars. Everyone was celebrating with excitement, some chest bumping included. Vi simply sighed and grabbed the smartphone from her pocket, easily found by the cover of a pink zombie Hello Kitty, which even the guys liked secretly. She scrolled through her photos until she found the one she was looking for. She should have erased it, but found angrily she didn't have the heart to.

"I'm back, Dad."

She looked up then snapped a shot of the skyline. She put the phone back in her pocket and sighed.

"This place sucks and I seriously doubt it will get better."

XXXXXX

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**I was listening to a lot of female fronted rock bands and watching a marathon of The Walking Dead one day then the thought crossed my mind of how interesting it would be to have a rather eccentric female rocker enter into that world, how she would interact, and what would exactly occur if this female entered into Daryl's life. So it began…I just started writing away on post its, literally.**

**Review and leave a comment, opinion, suggestion, feedback, and let me know if anything is in error. Thanks!**


	2. A Concert To Die For

**I do not own The Walking Dead or anything connected to the show, comics, characters etc.**

**A Concert To Die For**

**XXXXXX**

Entering Atlanta had been tricky, the highways being a bit more congested than usual and more than a fair share of ambulances rushing past parked cars with their blaring sirens and flashing lights. Vi and the rest of Smothering Lolita had been quickly led from the tour bus to the back doors of the booked venue, the flashing cameras and frenzied fans never distracting the body guards to get them to the packed green room.

When you've played a tour or two, even just one place, the green room is a little loud with everyone talking and getting amped for the show. You're usually being directed on where your changing room is, getting out of the way so techs can move your equipment you brought, and even being filmed or getting photos taken. For Vi, this time felt more fevered than usual. The agent was hammering away on his Blackberry in between taking calls from Seattle, New York City, and even the city of Atlanta.

"What do you mean by some illness travelling in the air? Is it some contagion? I can't have my clients getting sick because the CDC can't get their info correct!"

Vi frowned, recalling her last look at the news on Hayden's iPad about the illness up North, but before she could mutter a word to any of the other band members she found herself being led by a tall woman in a red coat and tight jeans to her dressing room by the elbow. The lady barely made eye contact and simply clutched her walkie-talkie in her hand, yammering away like Vi's agent on getting the 'performers' ready to go. Vi followed along, suppressing her desire to yank her arm back or give a sharp quip, until she reached her private dressing room. The woman let go and motioned quickly.

"This is your room, Miss Montrand. Okay Bill, green to go in 30 then they're ready to roll."

"Hey-" Vi barely got out a sentence before the woman stomped off in search of her next victim. She rolled her eyes and opened the door to find that the crew at least had her stuff neatly on the table. She collapsed on her chair, made a face in the mirror then threw her side bag on the table. The many safety pins and buttons stuck on the bag clinked on the surface while she unzipped the heavy bag. She retrieved an orange prescription bottle, shook out two pills in her shaking hand, and threw them back with a chug of a water bottle courtesy of the staff.

"All right, Vi. Time to rock out like it's the last day of your life and hope you don't slip on the stage again."

She closed one eye shut, pursed her lips, and formed her hand into a gun to point at the mirror.

"Bang, bang baby."

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XXXXXX

Being backstage was an adrenaline rush, hearing the fans roar your name like the waves of an ocean crashing against a pier or maybe going to a football game with your daddy to hear the crowd yell when your team scored a touchdown. The whole band waited excitedly, their hands tapping their guitars or clapping in rhythm to the shouts. Vi bounced up and down in her black Chucks, eyes closed to soak in the shouting of excited fans waiting for them to come out. It really was the most exciting experience and the most calming all at once. She let the noise soak into her skin and breathed in like a dying man needed air.

"Hey, Vi! Nice eye makeup. Are you channeling Cyndi Lauper now?"Tris joked in her ear.

Vi cocked a thin eyebrow at Tris then pointed a finger at their bassist, who was currently rocking some trashed black jeans and some chains.

"Hey, at least I am not channeling Joan Jett in a bad way like Cass. Tutu, really?"

"I heard that, Vi! And this pink tutu sets off my Runaways look," joked Cassadi. Her black smudged eyes were twinkling with laughter. "We can't all wear stripes of orange and glitter on our eyelids like Cyndi would."

Vi shrugged and crossed her arms, her bracelets jangling against her body. "Cyndi was my savior, why not pay respect?"

Suddenly a crew member ran out, sweat rolling down his chubby face before he waved at the band.

"Okay everyone out, vocalist last. Go, go!"

Tristan and Vi saluted mockingly in return, sending the sweating man running off. The strobe lights began swirling on the stage. Cassadi and Hayden, the lead guitarist, jogged out first with their guitars all ready screaming the intro to the set. The drummer, the newbie Jason, was all ready tearing it up with the rest.

Tristan turned to Vi, his fingers crossed with his lucky pink pick in his hand. Of course, Tristan would play with his pink pick today after Vi's 'omen' prediction. Vi smiled gently then tapped his pick twice, their little habit before a show.

"Lets show Atlanta the best night of their life, huh?"

"A day to never forget!" Vi returned cheerfully.

Tristan crossed his eyes then rushed on stage, his arms waving in the air before turning to play his guitar with all the spunk of a young rocker. Vi waited off to the side, bobbing her head and jumping from side to side. She counted out loud, before a familiar riff echoed outside. Suddenly, any anxiety or dark thoughts about Atlanta left her head as she skipped onto the stage. There was nothing like running onto a stage, seeing thousands of fans bobbing up and down with cameras in your band's shirts to make your day become brighter. It was about the music, the fans and your friends now. Anxiety, dark memories of your father breaking a tumbler of liquor on a wall because you played a chord wrong on your guitar, and any fears simply fled. Music was the sole focus, the sole outlet, and your savior.

Vi twirled before grabbing her taped mic from the stand and leaping onto the amp before belting.

"We are warriors in a storm, pushing against people that won't let us pass. Sing it with me, Atlanta!"

Vi pointed her mic at the crowd, cupping an ear to hear more shouts both in agreement and of her name.

"Vi! I love you!"

"Smothering Lolita!"

Vi smiled again and pulled to the mic to her lips to begin their big single.

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XXXXX

The venue was on fire with cheers, shared moments of sorrow and joy, and shouts for certain songs. Smothering Lolita was close to ending one of their acoustic versions of an old song that Vi had written at fifteen. Usually everyone sang along softly or listened quietly, camera phones recording Hayden picking along on his guitar or Tristan singing along with Vi on chairs while he would pick gently away.

Vi's head bobbed, her eyes closed and one tattooed arm waving in the air. It probably hadn't been a good idea to wear her favorite purple flannel shirt, but it was rock and roll. After she finished the last chorus, that's when she heard the first scream. It was a little weird at first, but after the second time it was a little startling. She opened her eyes to look in the crowd, one hand along her brow.

Before she could take a good look, the band quickly switched into a fast and up-tempo song that Vi knew Hayden loved to jump into the crowd during. She wrapped the mic around her hand, skipping along the stage and singing along but with less enthusiasm. The cheerful shouts rose up again, slightly putting Vi's thoughts at ease until the screams started again. This time there were more than just a few but several. They weren't happy screams; they were screams of pain and terror.

Vi dropped her mic away, forgetting to start the chorus and looked deep in the crowd. Someone had to be drunk.

"Tris?"Vi whispered, her mic to the side as she looked at him.

Tristan's own playing had come to a halt. The screams were getting louder and the bodies in front of them weren't bobbing in joy. There was scrambling, jumping and crouching. Some people were hugging others while some fans, the drunk ones, rushed the scrambling fans to grab them. The fans that were tackled fell to the ground, thrashing under the weight of the drunken ones.

"Tris…are they?"

"Dude, these people aren't drunk. They're attacking the others. Look at the blood."

Vi froze then, watching the crazed fans begin to attack in mobs at the scared teens. Arms, necks, shoulders, and any part the crazed fans could get hold of were being ripped then bitten like rabid animals. The mobs were getting closer to the stage, taking down the screaming bodyguards. Blood splashed on the stage, staining the amps and Vi's Chucks.

"Shit, watch out!"

Tristan rushed forward, swinging his guitar at the open mouthed, snarling fan climbing onto the amp under Vi. The sickening crack of guitar meeting skull was enough to snap Vi from her daze. She quickly dropped her mic and used one foot to push the amp off the stage. Vi only had one thought run through her head and that was Atlanta did indeed suck.

She backed away into her mic stand, grabbing it and swinging madly at the next rabid fan. It was enough to knock the lunging man off the stage. She pulled it back, readying it like a bat. Black blood dripped off the end onto her shoulder. She made a face but darted her eyes around the stage. Her ears picked up the sound of a low female voice yelling in warning not far from her.

"Get off me!"

Cass's voice erupted into fear from the other side of the stage. Vi caught sight of Hayden trying to use his Fender as a weapon to knock a fan off of Cass. Her voice reached a higher pitch as the fan sunk his teeth into her thigh, tearing like a mad animal. She fell clumsily onto the stage and near the closing in mob of fans that had crawled onto the stage. Vi felt adrenaline soar through her and every memory of the time she had spent with Cass and Hayden for the seven years they had laughed, cried, wrote music on napkins, and played sets together. They were family and she was losing them. She clutched the stand tighter and moved to spring toward them. She felt a hand grip her arm tightly and yank her back.

"C'mon Vi!"

Tris began to drag Vi against her will, kicking out at the fans climbing onto the stage.

"Cass! Hayden!"

Vi struggled to loosen her arm, but it was pointless now. The mob had pulled Hayden on top of the eager crowd of blood covered snapping jaws. Her hand covered her mouth, the vomit threatening to come up and tears pricking her eyes as she watched his body become slowly torn apart. She didn't want to even look for Cass since that side of the stage was quiet except for groaning and sucking sounds.

"Lets get the fuck out of here!" Tris shouted frantically.

Vi nodded shakily, letting Tristan pull her off stage. She stumbled after him, past all the screaming techs and staff members. Somehow a fan or two had broken into the green room because one was chewing on the neck of the woman in the red coat. Before Tristan could pull her further, she broke away to sprint to her changing room and grab her bag. There wasn't any way in Hell she was leaving her bag here. She might as well be dead without it and that possibility was real. Tristan had run after her shouting her name but she pumped her legs to the room. She ducked under fallen ceiling panels and let out a breath of air she didn't think she had been holding. She had to thank Gwen Stefani for all the times Vi had watched No Doubt's concert DVD and made herself able to do push ups like her second idol. She swiped her bag, checked her loot, and dashed out of the door to meet Tris not far away.

"I needed my bag."

"Right but now we need some answers. Illness? CDC? I've fucked up a two thousand dollar guitar and killed close to three people."

"Later for that. Lets get out now!"

Tristan held his guitar up, pulling Vi with the other hand. The power flickered on and off through the hallways but somehow they made it to the blinking exit sign. Vi held Tristan back and kicked the door open. Both held their breath, waiting for another fan before sprinting to where the tour bus should be.

"Quick, there it is!"

Vi felt her legs burn and her lungs gasping for air. She felt like jelly, but pumped her arms to follow Tristan. Soon she was ahead, just a few feet from the open doors. So close…

"Shit!"

Vi turned to hear the smashing open of doors near the side of the building, the bloodied small group of fans stumbling forward. Bones stuck out awkwardly, flesh hung from ripped faces, and shirts with the Smothering Lolita logo were covered in blood. Their filmy eyes landed on Tristan and they growled, tackling him. Tristan kicked madly, reaching for his guitar.

"Tris!"

Vi dropped her bag and ran over to his guitar, feeling the neck settle in her weak hands before facing the crowd. She whistled to the lone female fan with her teeth sunk in Tristan's shoulder.

"Hey, Barbie. Ken wants his spray tan back!"

Vi swung hard and long, the fans falling back from Tristan with a satisfying crack. She dropped the guitar and with shaking hands, pulled her best friend up. She placed his arm around her shoulder, moving quickly to get on the tour bus. Vi scooped her bag up with one hand and moved up the steps of the bus.

The startled bus driver whitened and shook with fear. His hands gripped the wheel, one heading to close the doors.

Vi slammed a hand on the side of the door and cocked her head at him.

"Larry, you do not want to end up like Barbie."

The man's jaw dropped.

"But he's infected, Miss Montrand…"

Vi stumbled up the steps, laid Tristan along the booth and shut the doors with her bloody hands. The pounding of hands against the closed doors shook the bus, leaving handprints of blood along the glass. She pushed her weight against the doors and shot a warning look at Larry then pleaded. "He is my best friend, Larry. He is all I have. Do this for me, if not me then my father."

The driver huffed and nodded, turning the engine. Vi stumbled back, gripping the driver's seat for balance as the bus shot forward and roared down the street. Her nails dug into the leather, her eyes focusing on the mayhem in front of them before narrowing. This wasn't a small illness, this was a plague, and she wanted answers. No lies, no propaganda, no sugar coated bullshit. She had had enough from the slips from her agent, wherever he was, and the pieces in the news.

"Now I want to know about this infection that my lovely agent wouldn't tell us about and why I am seeing tanks pulling in."

The driver looked back with confusion.

"The National Guard was called in. There has been an outbreak of infection, causing the infected to attack the uninfected. You really didn't know?"

Vi rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"No, the small pieces of news we caught never said anything about it and Mr. Suave Agent never let us in on anything."

"Yeah, Atlanta is on quarantine shutdown."

"I am enjoying the fact you never said anything to me. Well, we need to get out. Somehow, someway. Then I'll shower my redhead wrath on you like a Valkyrie."

* * *

Vi looked out the square window she had gazed out hours before. Screaming masses of people were running everywhere, followed by moaning zombies. She had to call them zombies now, because what else could they be. Cars were smashing into the other, car alarms going off. Police and National Guardsmen were popping off rounds from their weapons at barricades.

All this in the span of a few hours and no one told any of Smothering Lolita or their fans. No one had deigned to warn the band as they had innocently crossed along the coast, playing small gigs, doing radio interviews. People were dying, being eaten alive, and soldiers were out fighting this. This was Night of the Living Dead in the South.

"Atlanta sucks, Larry."

Larry cast a glance at Vi before gripping the wheel tighter.

"Right now, I think I would agree."


	3. Oh, Atlanta

**I do not own The Walking Dead or anything connected to the show, comics, characters etc.**

** Oh, Atlanta**

"**Oh, Atlanta**

**I hear you calling**

**I'm coming back to you one fine day**

**No need to worry**

**There ain't no hurry cause I'm**

**On my way back to Georgia**

**On my way back to Georgia"**

**- Oh, Atlanta by Alison Krauss**

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**XXXXXX**

The tour bus swerved then became an almost steady rumble along the road. The frantic screams, the constant moans and growls, the gunshots, the car alarms…it was becoming a long ballad of misery for everyone in the bus escaping the hell of Atlanta. Most people would be screaming, crying, and ripping their hair out in the midst of the chaos. But when you're someone like Vi, you just want to curl up and put on a record to drown out the pain around you and the madness. The Apocalypse could be breaking out around you but you just wanted to plug in your ear buds and press play on your iPod.

Its not that you can't face the new reality around you passing by or the sounds of your bus running over bodies that were no longer living human beings. You did, as soon as you saw friends killed and your best friend chewed on like a dog's chew toy. You were plenty aware, but music gave that tiny escape to soothe you and to place your trust in your driver to follow the other cars escaping the city too. As a musician, music was your life so it might as well be the last thing you hear and the last thing you might do.

Vi was tired of biting her lips, pulling back her hair, and watching Tristan becoming greyer by the minute. She wiped her hands on her jeans and looked over Tristan's festering wound on more time. His eyes were closed in pain, chills setting in his body and causing his thin frame to shake. She held in a breath then ripped off one of her sleeves with a grunt to tie on his wound to stop the bleeding.

"Tris, don't touch this. Got it?"

Vi settled down on the floor, pulling her knees up and leaning her head against the wall of the bus. She wanted to close her eyes so bad. It seemed like hours, but it might have been one.

"Jacqueline, he isn't going to make it. We need to drop him off."

Vi rubbed her eyes and grabbed her iPod from her bag, readying her jams to zone out to.

"Larry, not now. I-I can't hear this. Tris has to make it."

Larry paused, continuing driving then whispered to her.

"We're hitting some steady traffic. Lot of people leaving the city now. Are you gonna call your daddy?"

Vi put in her ear buds before answering. "I don't know. Just let me know when we get further from the city."

With that, she shuffled to music she hadn't heard in awhile and laid her head back to listen to tunes she first heard as a child when her daddy would play them on his guitar sober. Sleep seemed to creep on her with the last tune being the ironic Oh, Atlanta by Alison Krauss.

* * *

XXXXX

A hand roughly grabbed Vi's foot, snapping her awake with a jump. Vi looked around in a daze, ripping her ear buds out before her eyes rested on Tristan. He was awake, but more sickly looking than last she saw him.

"Vi, get some stuff ready."

Vi grabbed his hand with a squeeze and felt something in his palm. She looked down and noticed his lucky pink pick in his grey hands. She took it and waved it in her hand with a smirk.

"Lucky pick?"

Tristan attempted a weak grin but failed.

"Not so lucky huh? You hold onto it. It might give you better luck than it gave me."

Vi narrowed her eyes. "Zip it and lock it. You're going to make it."

Just then, Larry bellowed from up front. The bus had come to a slow halt.

"Guys, we are in a huge jam. We are not moving by bus anymore but we made further than I thought. Better do what Tristan says, Jacqueline. We got some walking to do."

Vi snorted. "Lovely."

She stood up and stretched, taking a sweep of the outside where nothing but woods surrounded them. She turned to go and started walking backwards, hands in the air.

"But a girl has got to do what a girl's got to do, bugs and all."

Tristan sat up weakly and spoke as loud as his hoarse voice could muster. "You know we are in hillbilly country now right?" He pretended to play a banjo and sang the Deliverance tune.

Vi put a hand on her face and moaned. "God, I know right? Knowing my luck, I'll meet one carrying dead squirrels who is gonna tell me I sure do have a pretty mouth then steal me away. Not funny, Tris."

Vi heard Tris's small laughter while she headed to the back where the cots were stowed along with the bathroom and all their homely needs. She knelt down by her own colorful cot with the Rainbow Brite sheets and looked under. She pulled out her two pairs of shoes and the suitcase of clothes she had brought along for the tour. The suitcase was definitely not going to work. She opened her side bag, dumping out anything she might not need and replacing it with the clothes, shoes, and the first aid kit she carried around. Everyone had always made fun of her falls on stage so as a birthday gag; a nice first aid kit was given. She never thought it would come in handy for the Apocalypse. Next, she looked around to find some toiletries. She was set to go for herself. Crouching in the back, she looked at Hayden and Cass's cots. She would never see them sleeping in them or playing pranks on each other. Never talk to them, play jams, listen to them talk about their families...everything was too much until a thought occurred to her. Hayden. The name crossed her mind followed by a stroke of genius. Hayden was from Tennessee and always carried a gun or two. She didn't know how he got away with it but he did. With that brilliant thought, she scooted to his cot and lay on the ground to reach under the bed.

"Bingo."

She felt the bus move a little, edging the jackpot closer to her small hand.

She pulled out a case. Ha, no need for a key when you have a metal bat. She used her foot to knock the bat from under her bed and, with great force, broke the lock off. Inside lay the prettiest old revolver and bullets. She grinned at the designs Hayden had added to the revolver like the grinning skull and pinup girl. She kissed the butt and picked up the loot from his case. Now where was his holster…?

"Hey Tris! Hayden was packing some heat! Looks like he loved Bettie Paige," she shouted in glee. "Look, just found his holster. I feel so Clint Eastwood right now."

She clicked the holster on her side, hoping it was on right before adding a dash of flair: a small pin of an All Time Low logo and another pin with the phrase 'Gag Me With A Spork!". She was ready after filling the revolver with bullets, hoping she could remember from old westerns and gun shows Hayden would watch that she got it right. Okay, safety on. Bat in hand and bag on the side.

"Hey Tris, what do you want to pack?"

She felt the bus jerk and swerve unexpectedly. She gripped the cots and gritted her teeth. Something was going on up front. She felt her way along the hallway, slowly moving forward until she was halfway to the front of the bus. Tristan was up and standing quietly.

"Tris?"Vi squeaked out.

Larry turned his body and aimed a short barrel shotgun at Tristan, his whole body shaking but his aim determined.

"Honey, get away from him."

Before Vi could speak or move, Tristan growled and ran awkwardly at Larry. Larry got off one round before the brunt force of Tristan had him hitting the gas hard. Tristan was clawing at Larry's back, his gaping mouth sinking into his shoulder. Tristan was tearing flesh away, sending a panicked Larry pushing the gas and swerving off the road and onto the grass.

"Larry!" Vi screamed, trying to move her way to the front.

It was then that Larry jerked the wheel tight, flipping the bus twice until it landed hard upside down. Vi felt herself fly in the air and tumble around, hitting her head on the ceiling until she was flat on her stomach. She felt dizzy and disoriented. Her vision was blurry, barely making out the frenzied feeding of Tristan on Larry's organs. Her eyes flew open with a single gasp escaping her mouth. Tristan turned his head quickly, his filmy eyes darting to her and the blood smeared on his mouth.

"No, no, no." Vi whispered loudly. She crawled achingly on her stomach over to the cracked window closest to the woods. Adrenaline rushed through her veins and body when she broke the window to crawl out faster than she could process. A ripped, bloody hand grabbed at her ankle and clutched hard. She looked back in horror to Tristan, her best friend, snapping his jaws at her foot. She jerked her foot around before getting a small solid kick with her other foot.

Her heart pounded in her chest hard. Blood trickled from cuts on her hand and her forehead. She stood up and backed away from the bus, taking in her surroundings. Empty cars were along the highway, except not all were empty. 'Zombies' like Tristan and the fans were coming upon the highway from far back. The cars were abandoned, luggage strewn around. What the hell had happened while she slept? Did people just abandon their cars at the sight of the creatures or had it been that way for a while?

That's when she smelled the gas. The bus was leaking which could only mean one thing. Vi looked for an escape, but did a double take when she saw Larry's short barrel shotgun on the grass.

"Dibs," she spoke to herself and swiped it.

She pumped her legs and started running forward, along the highway where the cars were disappearing. An empty highway stood before her. This could be good or bad, but for now running seemed the best idea. Bat in one hand, revolver in her pinup girl holster, and Larry's shotgun in the other hand were her best friends right now.

It was then that she heard the explosion, the heat hitting her back and the pressure knocking her on her stomach. She placed her hands over her head and listened to the sound of twisting metal, exploding glass and even moans. Well, no more tour bus and maybe no more zombies for a while. One moan broke the silence followed by the explosion. Maybe, one more zombie left.

"Seriously?" Vi uttered under her breath and stood up to look behind her.

Tristan lay on the ground, only his torso remaining. He pulled his body along the grass, his exposed spine and entrails trailing behind him. His face was nearly burned off, the bones an off white in the sunlight. The long hair he had prided himself on so much was in patches and skill burning on the ends. Even in death, Tristan was still following her. Her best friend from childhood, the first person to join her band, her partner in crime and the person who let her cry on her shoulder over her vicious past and bad hair days was now gone.

Vi felt tears slide down her face, even as she tried to smear them away with one thumb. She had to do this. She had to end the one person she loved more than anything. It was supposed to always be Tristan and Vi against the world. Not just her against the world. She pulled out the shotgun and aimed it at his head, her arms wobbling the whole time. The tears were falling heavily, her chest now heaving and her breathing becoming uneven as she took a step closer to him.

"I love you Tris."

She closed her eyes and pulled the trigger. She felt the recoil of the shotgun push her back a few steps and heard the sound of the bullet break bone. The moaning ended. She opened her eyes and looked at his dead corpse. She took a deep breath and felt for the pick he had given her in her pocket. She tapped it twice then began her run along the curving highway up the hill.

* * *

XXXXXX

The deer was just in sight, drinking from a small stream. Her eyes were closed in content and she seemed relaxed. Not too far away, a little up hill and against a tree, a dark crossbow was lowered with the sights lined up on the target. The man was crouched against a tree, his tanned hands holding the weapon firmly. His breathing was even, his dirt-smudged finger beginning to squeeze the trigger. Sweat trickled from his sandy hair and ran down into one sky blue eye, but he paid no mind.

Before he could squeeze off the arrow, the loudest damn explosion erupted and scared off his deer. He growled and slammed a fist into the tree. He kicked a rock with one booted foot.

"Son of a bitch!"

A bigger man with short peppered hair stumbled to stand beside the man with the crossbow. He had a brawler's face with a heavy jaw and heavier brow. His arms were crossed as he gave a look to the stream where the deer had been.

"What in the hell happened?"

"Hell if I know. I lost my god damn dinner."

Just then a shot rang out, crisp and clear followed by silence. The older man looked to the sky and then let his eyes follow in the direction of the shot.

"Looks like some sorry bastard's takin' on one of ém."

The sandy haired man held his crossbow up in the air and spoke in the Southern drawl they both had.

"Fuck ém. I gotta find another means of food."

The older man punched him in the shoulder and walked down the hill then hopped over the stream.

"Not gonna go after the stray, Daryl?."

Daryl gave a glare and turned to head back.

"Hell no."

The pepper haired man laughed and climbed back up the hill to clap Daryl hard on the shoulder. Daryl winced sharply then looked back once more, his blue eyes narrowing before he spit on the dirt by his boot.

"I know this, Merle. That son of a bitch, if he's still livin', best pray he's dead or I'm a shoot him for that lost buck."

He looked over at his brother then nodded up the hill. "You go on back. I'll be late huntin' down some food. I don't wanna be bitched at by the lawman again."

* * *

**Thank you for the follows and favorites so far! You gave this a chance and I appreciate it. I plan to deliver, believe me. So we had a big explosion and the appearances of the Dixon brothers finally! Please read and review. Let me know if I made any grammar or spelling errors as well. I really like feedback.**


	4. Welcome To The End Of The World

**I do not own The Walking Dead or anything connected to the show or graphic novels.**

**Welcome To The End Of The World**

**XXXXXX**

* * *

When you're in the woods as a child, carefree and curious at the beautiful nature around you, you skip around and chase the squirrels escaping you without paying mind to your best friend yelling for you to wait up. Even in your young teens, nature still captivates you and you marvel with your friends at how the moon hangs above the treetops like a jewel illuminating the night sky. You are excited and even a little scared, remembering watching the Blair Witch Project in the tour bus with your band mates on the long trip through Massachusetts trying to reach Boston. Everything is new each time you see the woods, but it still contains that beauty you loved.

Vi found the woods truly frightening and less marvelous now. The woods really were full of monsters, ready to tear you apart with no thought at all. She kept her legs moving, the dirt and mud sloshing onto her orange jeans. The bag was heavy like bricks now and her hand was getting numb from holding the shotgun. She'd made her way from the highway, deciding maybe scaling the hill might be better. Now it seemed to be the worst idea ever. A branch snapped against her face, leaving a mark she rubbed in anger with a huff.

"Really? Where is Hayden when you need him?"

That's when reality came back. That's right, her friends were dead and she would be if she didn't haul it up this hill. The moon was hanging up ahead, giving some light but the woods blocked out some of the brightness. That's it, no more woods where anything could pop out at her. Time to move where the highway might be. She climbed higher and turned left, heading in that direction. Not too long after, she found a large dirt highway that wound up the hill.

"Progress, Vi."

She was exhausted beyond anything she ever felt, even after several concerts. She had to keep moving though, despite her body's aches and demands. The best thing to do now was something others might find weird: skip and sing to herself. Maybe it was weird but anything to fight sleep.

"Liquor on the table, oh baby. I grab it and swig it like an avalanche running down my throat. Oh I hear you my bonnie blue, my bonnie blue baby," Vi sang lightly to herself while attempting to skip.

"Sweetest kiss I ever had, poison on my lips. Stay the night and hold me close in this motel. Bonnie blue…"Vi's voice drifted into silence until she felt her body collide with something warm and strong. Her vision swam with black dots, unable to get a good look but she caught the smell of sweat, spice and mud. She tried to focus on the figure, who was breathing evenly, and found her eyes catching the sight of a sharp and very deadly looking crossbow. Vi caught cold blue eyes, made even more haunting by the moon's reflection, staring at her casually with a look of irritation and curiosity before becoming blank as a canvas.

Vi's body was wobbly and sore from running in the forest and her voice hoarse from yelling in the woods for anyone that might be alive long ago but she raised her hands cautiously and spoke in a slight tremble.

"I come in peace."

Those were her last words before she slumped over onto the dirt road. Her face hit the ground hard, her body numb and giving in to the sleep that had threatened her for hours. She barely heard the sound of boots crunching the dirt and a rough hand checking her pulse. The smell of spice and sweat became suffocating when she felt a hand grab her ankle and start to drag her, but by then she was fading in and out of sleep. Soon though she caught the sound of feet running, crunching grass and dirt underneath their soles. Men and women were mumbling to each other in shock and concern. She felt a hand touch her forehead and slender hand of a woman's check her for any bite marks.

"Who in the hell?"

It was a man with an accented baritone who carried the tone of someone in charge.

"Hell if I know. Found her on the road so don't ask me any questions. You take her, Shane. She ain't my responsibility,"growled the very agitated savior of hers. She felt her leg drop harshly on the ground and boots stomping away. Obviously, her no longer savior was a bastard who happened to own a nasty crossbow. Did Vi enter Evil Dead and didn't know it?

"Shane, she doesn't have any scratches or bites."

"Good, Lori, but how the hell did she get up here? You know Dixon won't talk."

An older voice, a male's, whispered then.

"It doesn't matter. She's wounded and she's come a long way, maybe from Atlanta."

Vi's eyes flickered open before she felt her lips move slowly, her hand trying to move.

"Daddy?"

The darkness took over then and she was out.

* * *

XXXXXX

Vi was dreaming she was on the tour bus, laying in her cot and listening to The Naked And Famous. Young Blood, her favorite song, was playing in her ear buds and she nodded to the beats lightly. The cot was plush and she felt warm, protected. The song changed then to female voice speaking. Then something cold and wet dripped on her forehead. Damn that Cassadi!

"Cassadi, Peter Pan is calling for you," she mumbled while her eyelids started to flicker before snapping completely open followed by her body shaking awake from her dream. She wasn't in the tour bus but some camper RV on a floor of blankets and surround by three women. Add one teenager to that number. She tried to crawl back until the oldest woman, a kind looking lady with short grey hair, touched her shoulder lightly.

"Its okay, you're safe. We've been taking care of you."

Vi looked around at all of them, all faces of concern except for the excited teenage girl. She was practically shaking and ready to grab her.

A brunette woman in a tank top looked her over then took on a serious expression. "How did you get here? What's your name?"

The teenage girl opened her mouth quickly, unable to contain her excitement. She pointed at Vi.

"That's Jacqueline Montrand of Smothering Lolita, you guys. I have all their music…well I did. She's famous."

Vi gave a wary grin and wiggled her thumbs in the air, finally sitting up. "You got me."

"Amy! She's weak from her trek," an older blonde woman with wavy hair sharply responded. Sister, maybe?

Vi looked around then stood up with the rest of the women. She took in the RV and saw her stuff on a cluttered table. She sighed and crossed her arms.

"Its cool. Just call me Vi, everyone I know does…or they did."

The brunette smiled grimly. "I'm Lori. This is Carol and these other two are Andrea and Amy."

"Awesome. Thanks for the bandaging, but…um…is there anywhere to change and clean up? Zombie blood is not a good look. I probably look like a hot mess."

The women gave odd exchanges before Andrea pointed to the back. "There is a shower in the back. We wash clothes in the lake out back so if you need any laundry done…"

Vi made a face and gagged. "Oh no, I am so burning this like its out of style. Except for my shoes, I'll scrub them."

Lori and Andrea made funny faces before the one named Andrea decided to speak slowly. "Don't you have any questions about who found you and where? Do you remember anything?"

Everyone suddenly seemed less light, if that was possible, and became grim as if Death himself had walked in the door with a tray of brownies. Vi raised a plucked eyebrow archly. "Hmmmm...I remember the smell of spice and rabbits. Believe me, I don't mean a big Thumper wearing Old Spice either."

With that response, all the women again made funny faces before piling out the door. This left a lingering Amy, who was tugging loose strands of hair behind her ear and biting her lip.

"I am a big fan of yours. Your slips on stage are famous."

Vi cringed but gave a thumb up and took a small Lolita pin off her bag to give to Amy. "Here is for being my only fan now."

Amy took the pin and nearly squealed, turning to leave. She stopped in the doorway and looked at Vi with a sorrowful expression. "I am glad you made it, Vi."

Vi paused then looked into Amy's sad blue eyes and let a sincere smile grace her lips, even if tears wanted to fall from her green eyes.

"Me too, Barbie."

Amy hopped off the RV and shut the door, leaving Vi with a critical decision. Vi placed her hands on her hips and moved her lips side to side. The clothes were now spread before her before she spoke out loud.

"Now, what to wear in my first outing as Vi, possibly the last remaining rocker…unless Katy Perry made it. I take that back considering she probably kissed a zombie and didn't like it."

Gathering what confidence was left; she grabbed an outfit and set to showering.

* * *

XXXXX

Shane stood tensely in a circle with the others. Everyone looked wary, concerned, and a few relieved. Another survivor meant someone made it but it meant another mouth to feed, another to worry about and someone that might not contribute to the group. Shane believed in working together, helping everyone to stay sane and protect each other. As a former deputy, he had an obligation to protect everyone. Shane watched the women who leave the RV looking relieved at the recovery of the new survivor, but also a little uncomfortable. This excluded Amy and Carol, with one being excited and the other simply happy to see the survivor healthy.

"What if she led Walkers up here?"

"Is she dangerous?"

"Never seen any girl like that."

"Well, at least Dixon didn't kill her."

Shane put a hand up and spoke up.

"Everyone, stay calm and we will ask her any questions we all may have. Remember, she is a survivor."

Dale looked down from up top of the RV and spoke up with concern. "She's young. Don't push her. She's probably scared and vulnerable now."

The RV door slammed open, revealing a tiny woman with bright red hair. Her blazing green eyes were wide open, taking in the scene of the camp. She took in a deep breath then hopped from the RV with a small grin and twirled around, examining the tents and campfire spot.

For someone supposedly scared, wounded and vulnerable she looked healthy and practically bouncing. Shane noticed her hair wasn't red even but some weird orangey red, parts of her body swirling with tattoos, and her outfit even more odd. While everyone wore bland colors and regular jeans with shirts, her small body was clad in the brightest colors on God's green earth.

"What in Sam Hell?" Shane called out.

The redheaded sprite, because she had to be an alien after her 'I come in peace' words last night, looked back at the group and cocked a hip to the side. She walked forward and threw a pale hand clad in short red gloves with orange nail polish out to him.

"Hey there, I'm Vi. I promise I don't bite," she winked and shook his hand at the same time.

* * *

XXXXX

Vi took her hand back and stood as still as possible, looking at the rest of the group. They were taking her in, from her red Chucks to the knee socks with red stripes and further up to her red shorts and white button shirt. She thought she looked rather normal, but under the scrutiny maybe they didn't think so and that made her crawl inside. Judgement and rejection all ready...

She opened her mouth. "What? I'm not weirding you out am I? I'm trying to be comfy here."

"Classic Vi!" Amy whispered to her sister Andrea, who pinched her arm to quiet her.

The man who shook hands with her eyed her then wiped his face clean. He had to have been a police officer at one point. She gathered that from the pieces of her memory of last night. It looked like it was all business now. Time for business then, she guessed. She put her hands behind her back and waited patiently.

"First things first, how did you find your way here?"

"I walked along the highway then broke into the woods before deciding heading back to the highway was better. I found the dirt road then I passed out."

Shane eyed her and moved closer.

Vi found herself only sighing inwardly. Nice, an interrogation.

"Did any Walkers follow you? Did you come from Atlanta?"

Vi crossed her arms and nodded. "Yes, I came from Atlanta. Well, I escaped from there. No one followed. The one that did I had to kill…"The last part came out as a whisper. Her mind whispered to Tris, crawling on the ground after her before she put the bullet in his head. Or she thought she did...she had to have right?

"You killed one? Where? How far away? Safety is a huge priority around here for all of us."

Vi put her hands on her forehead, trying to stay calm. Her eyes wandered from Shane, catching a foul looking man chain smoking away near Carol and a young girl. He was close to Carol, in an aggressive stance. He blew smoke in her face and looked to be barking at her. It was then she noticed Carol's head down and a bruise showing on her bicep where her shirt rode up. This man was beating her…

"Hey!" Shane called at her, getting closer to her face.

Vi snapped her eyes back sharply. Her hands were on her hips now, her body tense.

"What? You wanna know where I killed this Walker. After my band's concert was trashed by Walkers, killing most my band in front of me…which was pretty disturbing if you ask me. But this Walker you're talkin' about? You really wanna know, Boss?"

Vi swallowed and used one arm to swing back towards the road. "I killed this Walker, who happened to be my best friend, after my tour bus flipped and blew up like the Fourth of July on the highway nearly killing me! Write that down so you don't forget. My bus blew up and I killed my friend."

Shane looked down and swallowed, then looked up with regret in his eyes.

"Looks like a little ginger from a softball team survived! Hey there, baby girl!"

Shane cursed low. "Damn Merle…"

* * *

XXXXX

Daryl trudged down the small hill, moving branches out of the way when he heard a loud female voice yelling angrily back at the camp. He had been hunting all morning, with the company of his brother Merle, after being interrupted by the palest girl he had ever seen in his life. She had bumped into him hard while he had been carefully crossing the road to head back near the stream. He'd been cursing and puffing steam since he had lost that buck so his mood was all ready at a full alert of 'Nobody fuck with me'. Now it seemed she was wide awake and as pissed as he was, if anyone could get as worked up as he could. He kept his ears alert and kept his pace slow before leaping down and stomping towards the sight. His arms swung loosely, his gait like a predator coming on to prey and his eyes zeroing in on the commotion.

"Some girl is pissed the hell off," Merle laughed low and followed after Daryl.

"I killed this Walker, who happened to be my best friend, after my tour bus flipped and blew up like the Fourth of July on the highway nearly killing me! Write that down so you don't forget. My bus blew up and I killed my friend."

Daryl trained his eyes on the loud girl and sucked in a breath. She had to be wearing the brightest damn clothes he'd seen in a while with flame colored hair. She had a hip cocked to the side, her chest practically bumping Shane's and a tattooed arm thrown back to point to the road.

"Damn people, ain't none of y'all know what quiet is," Daryl snapped before taking in what the girl said. He growled and stomped closer to her, his veins tensing in his neck.

Shane caught on to Daryl quick and he moved between the girl and him fast. His chest bumped against his own dirty one. They eyed each other hard. Daryl glared then spit to the side, before gesturing at the girl.

"Don't you get involved, lawman. This little girl is the reason I lost my kill hours ago. You ain't getting between us."

Shane pushed him back, blocking him from the girl whom he had 'saved'. Before Shane could retort harshly, the girl turned slowly and gave a glare of ice.

"Seriously? Did I hear ginger and softball player in one sentence?"

Shane tilted his head back to her, whispering sharply in warning. "Not now, Vi. You don't want to get involved with these two."

The girl, Vi, crossed her arms and looked over Daryl then Merle before rolling her eyes. She threw her hands in the air and knelt on the ground. Either this bitch was crazy or having some damn panic attack. That was just great, another weak one. She then stood and walked a circle.

"Jesus, this is Deliverance. My luck sucks so hard."

Daryl looked back at Merle then Shane. The hell was goin' on since they left this morning to hunt?

"You best watch your words," Daryl spoke slowly.

She took him in then. Her green eyes were deep and piercing, maybe even a little taunting. She had a face that looked like it belonged in a fashion magazine at a drugstore, except for the fact her nose was a little more pointed and she had pale freckles that fell across her nose like sprinkles on a fresh cupcake. She glanced down at the string of dead squirrels on his shoulder then his crossbow before rolling her eyes, her small hands going to her temples.

"My luck…really…sucks," she moaned loudly.

Daryl looked back at Shane hard.

"Now what? You gonna keep her around? What's she gonna do, huh? I can tell you right now: nothin'."

XXXXXX

Vi was burning inside with not just anger but embarrassment. A redneck with anger management issues, who happened to be her former savior, was carrying dead squirrels around and apparently lived in this camp with his creeper old brother…father…inbred whoever. This was Deliverance and she was not going to tolerate this bad fortune. She sighed to herself and hung her thumbs in her pockets while Shane and angry hillbilly fought it out. She felt something slender and rectangular in her pocket.

She felt in her pocket and looked down, pulling out a single strip of chewing gum.

"Huh."

The hillbilly gestured at her and began speaking more heatedly in his thick twang.

She walked slowly, eyeing the gum before a small grin crossed her face. Cotton Candy, her favorite.

"Glorious!"

She popped it in her mouth, chewing soundly before opening the RV door. Her eyes scanned around until she found what she was looking for. She grabbed her bat, eyed it fondly, and stepped back out with a sound pop of her gum.

"The fuck?"

The redneck raised his dark black crossbow at her while Shane held up his shotgun out of reflex. The others backed away in fear. Vi eyed them strangely before shrugging. She felt her foot kick a rock on the ground and knelt to roll it in her hands. Yes, this would do. She positioned her legs, her body sideways and facing the tree line to the left of the camp. She popped her gum once more, threw the rock in the air, and grabbed her bat in both hands. Her eyes followed the rock and counted down.

"Fore!" Vi called out before swinging her bat, sending the rock flying past the site where Carol and her family sat. The rock flew soundly above and into the trees. She watched with one hand blocking the sun above her eyes, gum popping in her mouth the whole time.

Silence followed.

Vi placed the bat over her shoulder and looked at the men, whose weapons were lowered just a bit. All held expressions of 'WTH'. She tapped the bat on her shoulder once, blew a bubble and smirked.

"Never did the softball thing, but looks like I can definitely do a certain damn thing. Example One just happened."

Vi walked off towards the path leading to the lake, perking her ears to hear Amy hold back on a chuckle and even an Asian kid around her age who had joined the ruckus.

"We have a damn lunatic on our hands," Shane muttered.

"But she's got a good swing," pointed out a big black man who had been close to Lori the whole time.

The hillbilly with the crossbow exclaimed out loud then.

"I'm heading to skin squirrels, if y'all even give a damn."

The only thing Vi felt was not one of triumph or excitement but a twinge of frustration and sadness. It was the end of the world with zombies roaming around, all her friends were dead, her former savior was an extra from Deliverance and she missed hitting the wife beater. Her luck really was terrible.

* * *

XXXXXX

**I wrote this a little late at night. I hope everyone is getting a feel of the kind of person Vi is, at least as of now. I am trying to keep Daryl in character, even by watching the first season again.**


	5. Slow Burn

**I do not own The Walking Dead or anything connected to the show, comics, characters etc.**

**Slow Burn**

**XXXXXX**

**Crazy way he thrills me**

**Tell you why**

**Just like a lightning from the sky**

**He loves to kiss me**

**'Till I can't see straight**

**GEE, my Lollipop is great! **

**I call him... **

**Lollipop by The Chordettes**

**XXXXXX**

When you imagine the possibility of the end of the world, not the end of the world you hear preachers shout about on television when flipping through channels, but to yourself, you don't usually take in the possibility you might end up in the Deep South on a mountain with small towners. You usually are talking excitedly and heatedly with friends, huddled on the floor on your tour bus after watching the Friday Zombie Movie Marathon about the impending zombie apocalypse. Vampires were out, zombies were in and they were going to happen. You imagine all of yourselves turning into ass kicking zombie killers with machetes and machine guns making your way in a Hummer to a military base or creating your own fort. The guys were Mad Max or Bruce Campbell and you were Sigourney Weaver…except with zombies.

Vi sat on the dirt ground near the edge of the mountain with her legs crossed and gum popping in her mouth. Reality was totally different from those fantasies. First, the zombie apocalypse happened before 2012 and second, her friends were not with her and she was not Sigourney Weaver with a wicked flamethrower. She was stranded in the friendly outskirts of Atlanta (did she mention Atlanta sucking?) with a camp of tired small town escapees and men giving off Deliverance vibes. She would kill Tris if he weren't all ready dead. She sighed and blew a bubble.

A shadow appeared over her shoulder before her fan Amy crouched beside her. Amy's blonde hair hung down her back and her blue eyes were focused on the ground. She was biting her lips, wanting to say something but unsure.

Vi spoke first after a sound pop. "Hey, super fan."

Amy smiled and settled in beside her, holding her knees and resting her chin. "Vi, you really should leave Daryl Dixon alone."

Vi raised an eyebrow and sighed. "But its too much fun…"

Amy gasped and then caught the wiggle of Vi's eyebrows before shaking her head. She got serious again and narrowed her eyes. "You were close to hitting Carol and Ed's camp area."

Vi popped her gum, digesting this information and murmured to herself. "Ed, huh?"

Amy looked ahead then let a smile beam on her face. She jumped up and held a hand out. "Hey, all of us are washing clothes today. Well, the ladies are. Do you want to come join us?"

Vi stood up hesitantly, throwing her bat over her shoulders and letting a foot tap. To go or not to go? That was the question…until she saw chain smoking wife beater himself 'overseeing 'the washing. She grinned.

"Sounds like a kickin' idea, Amy. Lead on!"

Amy smiled back nervously. "Um, I'd leave the bat. It might make them a bit more comfortable."

Vi rolled her eyes then turned to salute at Dale, the old man on lookout on the RV. "Hey 'On Golden Pond', Barbie and I are heading to the lake! If we see zombie gators, we shall alert!"

Dale shook his head and waved at them. "Be careful!"

* * *

XXXXXX

"That's what you get when you let your heart win, whoa oh oh oh…"Vi sang to herself out loud. She had stripped to her tank top and put her shoes next to her socks on the rocks. By the grace of the rock gods, she had found her red heart shaped glasses and now wore them with relish. She had skipped her happy self down to the shore, waving and whistling all the way. The women waved lightly but warmly enough. After asking if she could do something, they shook their heads but told her she could keep company and boy did she.

After running through a list of Motown songs and some punk favorites, she was getting bored. The conversation of the women was kind of…boring and small. They focused on washing and drying in a repetitive pattern with hard faces of determination. Yes, this was a post-apocalyptic world with zombies running amuck but laugh a little right?

"So, Vi, where did you get so many tattoos?"Amy asked between washing.

"Yes, honey. You have a few on you for someone so young. You look about 17,"Jacqui threw in between scrubbing a blouse.

Vi lowered her shades and smiled cryptically. "Wouldn't you like to know? Here."

Vi rolled her left arm over, showing a long design of a music sheet rolling up like a banner on her forearm. Little notes danced on it with birds flying in and out. "I got this one done in Seattle and also the other music notes behind my ear."

Vi scooted and showed off the vintage stars next to a crescent moon on her shoulder blade that crossed to her upper bicep. "This was in New Orleans at 18 and the heart you see on my other wrist was at 16. Illegal, yes, but redheads are charming I have learned."

"That all?" Jacqui asked in shock.

Vi leaned back on her arms. "No. You missed seeing the one on the side of my wrist, the one on my side and my ankle."

"So young to have so many," Andrea chimed in.

Vi rolled her head back and stood to stretch. "I'm bored. Who wants entertainment?"

Before the women could make a sound, she pushed her shorts off and threw them to the side. Her short boxers, orange with arrows on them, clung to her upper legs. She bounced and jogged away from the shore. She used a finger to judge the wind and looked ahead with concentration.

"Cannonball!"

She ran full sprint, not forgetting to wink at Ed on his truck bed, and jumped into the water. She felt the cool rush of water envelope her body as she swam to the surface. With a laugh, she waved her hands around and slicked her long hair back from her face.

"From 1 to 10, how was it?"

"Vi!" Carol and Andrea both called out warningly.

Vi shrugged and let her back float on the surface of the water, her arms and legs pushing her along. The sun was delicious on her skin, the water better than fans screaming her name or sky diving in Colorado. She let herself float awhile before deciding her swim hour for the day was done and it was time to join reality…again.

She righted herself and dog paddled to the shallow end before trudging out to stand by the ladies. She stood triumphantly, giving her best Superman stance. She winked at the ladies and gave a thumb up before letting a stream of water hit Amy on top of her head. They needed a good laugh and who was Vi but a bag of laughter, intentionally or not. The stage falls and interview rambling was proof of that.

The trick worked, sending Amy from her seat and into the air. She took in a breath and wiped the water from her face, giggling the whole way. The women eventually chuckled at both Vi's antics and Amy's reaction. Mission accomplished, thought Vi before she walked out of the water, grabbed her items, and skipped a few feet away from the women to squeeze out her hair. Well, or not. Ed had puffed his cigarette, flicked the ash off and walked his round body down to the shore. He met Vi halfway.

"You supposed to be workin' with the others."

This was a statement, not a question. Vi squeezed her hair out more, letting her eyes settle on the cherry on his cigarette as he took in another drag. She felt her head throb and jaw tick but smiled and threw her hair onto her shoulder, sprinkling Ed with water. He jerked back, one hand slapping at the water on his face.

"Whoops, my bad. Hair, what can I say? Mind of its own. I should get a device, maybe find a scientist…"

Ed got closer to her, his fingers holding the cigarette pointed in her face. "You think you're somethin' special, makin' them women laugh but they got jobs to do. You better get to how things work around here. Dressing like some hussy and walking around like you on the corner…you best know your place here soon, girl."

Vi blinked and looked around, back at the women. They had stopped washing but tried to hold back from getting up. Amy, even Andrea, looked upset and angry but stayed put. Andrea was afraid for Amy. Carol…she looked worn and used to such displays. Vi looked to see a wedding ring on Carol's hand and a matching band on Ed's chubby finger. Ah, he was a wife beater.

Vi put on an innocent, subdued expression with her head bowed before looking at Ed solemnly. "Ed, you're right. I should know my place as a female as caregiver and runner of the home…or whatever. As a concerned nurturing female, can I say something please…between you and me?"

Ed gave a puzzled nod. "What?"

Vi bit her lip then narrowed her eyes. "Between you and me, you look like a walking ad for people to quit smoking. You're going to get throat cancer, but I don't think that's really a bad thing. Just saying, as a woman."

The women gasped and Ed took in a deep breath. Vi didn't expect the loud slap from his nicotine stained hands to connect with her cheek. She felt her head go the side, one hand automatically holding her face before she darted her razor sharp eyes at him.

"Watch your tone," Ed spit dangerously low in her face.

Vi glared back. "Blah, blah get back in the kitchen. I get it."

Vi made a face and took quick strides back up the hill to the base camp. She made sure to successfully put her sunglasses back on, even with shaking hands. Once back by the tents and RV, she tossed her shoes and clothes into the RV while ignoring the looks of the others around her. It wasn't until Shane came up to her, head down and hands on his hips that she stopped and put her hands on her hips. Seriously, what crime did she commit now? Fashion disaster…not possible here. Bad hair? Once again, not possible. Bad at washing clothes? Well…maybe.

"Vi, a word? You're new here and I am not sure what you are used to in the society you come from but some of us believe you to look indecent. Children are here…and some of us think you should dress more…"

"What? Like, Amish? Churchy? I am not in a thong, which is not a pretty sight by the way," Vi retorted in a whine.

Shane raised an eyebrow and coughed. Vi looked down at her boxers and back at him, her own eyebrows raised before dropping a jaw.

"Seriously? Seriously? Fine, I'll change so the Deliverance twins don't creep on me."

And on cue, Merle catcalled from his campfire by the angrier Deliverance twin Daryl. "Hey, ginger. You wanna dry off over here? I ain't got no problem over here like the lawman."

Vi made a face of disgust and gagged. She nodded at Shane. "We are in accord then but first I need to burn my nasty clothes. Kay?"

Shane nodded reluctantly. Vi shook his hand 'in accord' then hopped inside to grab the very out of style bloody zombie clothes from the concert.

* * *

XXXXXX

"Hey, ginger. You wanna dry off over here? I ain't got no problem over here like the lawman." Merle called over to the soaking wet girl in boxers. He laughed after she casted him a disgusted face with raised thin red eyebrows and twisted full lips. Merle continued chuckling, skinning the squirrels by the fire and handing them to Daryl who had barely caught the conversation.

"That girl you saved has got some fire. Whoo boy, I tell you. She ain't like them other women round here. Its too bad she's young, but never stopped me before in Vietnam."

"This one ain't ripe. Throw it," Daryl spoke up after inspecting the skinned squirrel. He cast a look at the small redhead in wet boxers shake the lawman's hand before she bounced into the RV.

"I didn't save her. Now tell me, Merle. Who in the right mind is gonna wear boxers? No sane girl, that's what."

Merle rubbed him hard on the shoulder making Daryl wince before both went to skinning the squirrels at their makeshift fire. They kept a Ford truck nearby but two tents and a fire were kept from the others where they could skin, quarter and cook their kills without no one paying any mind. They were outcasts, loners, and no one cared if they would even be alive if it weren't for Daryl's knowledge of hunting and tracking. They'd probably starve if it wasn't for him and he bet they all probably knew it.

Footsteps drug along the dirt not far from them and picked up pace, until a dripping wet and huffing figure was right by them. Daryl felt drops of water hit his exposed shoulder and he hopped up, holding his knife with a tighter squeeze. The wild red haired girl stood beside them, dripping boxers and all, holding a bundle of bloody clothing. Heart shaped sunglasses covered her eyes and her mouth was set in its constant crooked tug in the left corner. He eyed the clothing with disgust and turned back to look at her. She seemed to make him immediately hit the red zone and he couldn't explain it. Her stunt earlier would have made him nod in approval and ridicule Shane till the end of his days for the look on his ugly mug, but she had made a fool of him in front of everyone.

"Damn, girl, don't bring that smelly shit over here," Daryl barked and threw his arms back in anger.

The girl's lips tugged a little more before she raised a hand up to point at the squirrels. "It's Vi, first off. Second off, really? Your squirrels first before you criticize my clothes."

Daryl narrowed his eyes then sighed, rubbing one temple where the sweat was falling in droplets. "You got any business being over here?"

She sighed and handed the bundle over. Daryl's trained eyes honed in on her pale shaking hands then quickly onto her face. She was a pale girl from what he saw that night, probably had never been in the sun like he had, so it, but this time round her cheek looked a little red and irritated. He let that settle as something to think about later and watched her throw the bundle into the crackling campfire.

"Your cozy camp area is the only one with a lit fire so I thought I'd come over, sing some campfire songs then burn the clothes I wore to fight zombies off and then kill my best friend with. Pretty simple."

"What's up with your face?" Daryl asked, gesturing with his knife. She froze up. No retort, sassy remark, joke, nothing. Something had happened and it had spooked her. He could gather that she was the fast talking type of person, all huge gestures and flair, but she was zipped up tight.

"You can join us anytime, little sweet thing."

The redhead cocked a hip and smiled sweetly at Merle, patting him on his meaty shoulder. "Cro-Magdumb, it's so not happening. It may be the end of the world but I'd rather find a diseased, hunchback-looking bear. Enjoy the squirrels."

She patted his shoulder, stared a little longer than was comfortable for Daryl, and skipped off. Daryl kept his eyes on her, watching her even as she banged on the side of Dale's RV to get his attention and shout at him.

"Hey On Golden Pond, can I join you for a sunbathing session? Apparently I am underdressed and I get the switch if I don't change my ungodly ways. Free serenade?"

Daryl heard Dale chuckle and wave her up. She waved, leaned into the trailer with one leg hanging out to grab a new bundle of clothes and whistled at Jim to help her up the trailer. She blew a kiss and saluted at Jim before lying back in the chair to relax in the sun.

"You hear that, Daryl? She got it coming with that mouth of hers."

Merle was pissed the hell off, but Daryl was a little on edge for another reason. He dug into the squirrel with his knife and let his knife slide hard down the side.

"Doesn't matter. She isn't my problem."

XXXXXX

"Crazy way he tries to kill me, tell you why, with that crossbow aimed at my eyes," Vi hummed out loud, feet crossed at the ankles and arms behind her head. Her clothes had mostly dried, letting her scoot back into her red shorts with a modest Dale facing the other way. Now she just kept him company, both quiet and thoughtful.

"Dale?"

"Yes, Vi?"

"Do my sunglasses scream Lolita?"

Dale looked thoughtful before looking back at her serious face, a wistful smile on his face.

"You're a queer little girl, Vi."

"I am in my 20s so I'm not a 'little girl' and you can call me Jacqueline. The hand full that do probably won't ever again, but you can. You don't look at me like I am a walking carnival freak. Bearded lady, I am not. I actually shave."

"Well, that's kind of you."

Vi and Dale sat silently until Vi cleared her throat.

"I'm from New Orleans. My father was Colton Montrand. He was kind of an underground sensation in the bluegrass world and in some of the bluesy world. I don't know if you remember him. Not many connect the two of us."

"I sure do. I had an old record of his from the 70s. He had some decent talent."

Vi settled back, bringing out the iPod she had snug in her bundle of clothes. She brought out the ear buds and set them in.

"Dale?"

"Yes, honey?"

"Don't tell anyone. I would rather keep that silent. You just, I don't know, remind me of him before he...you just remind me of him is all. Our secret?"

"Sure," Dale smiled kindly and shook Vi's shaking hand.

"Good deal, On Golden Pond."

Vi waited for Dale to turn, before swiftly pulling out her pill bottle, popping out a small green pill and washing it down with one of the cups near Dale. During mid swig, Dale spoke out loud.

"Vi, I hope I'm not infringing on you or your choices but it's for your safety that you keep away from Daryl Dixon. There isn't any rational discussion to be had with that one."

Vi raised an eyebrow at the sanity part of the sentence but silently nodded at the rest. Merle, she all ready had bad feels about. Stay away she would. Daryl, the former savior...she wasn't sure about. Typical crossbow toting redneck that eats squirrels and gives the angry eye because you're not a cousin he can inbreed with she deduced that much. At least he didn't stab her when he got close and she swore she saw scars under his ripped shirt. She found herself wondering about the scars until she shook her head. No more thoughts on rednecks, she thought. Time for music.

She hit play and sang along to Alison Krauss. For some reason, since the end of the world, bluegrass was the genre of choice. These were sad times and what could capture sadness more than bluegrass.

XXXXXX

**Enjoy and review! Thanks to the few reviews so far. I am glad you enjoy Vi so far. Daryl will be in the story much more from here on, not just in and out. This IS a Daryl story after all.**


	6. The Wild Card

**I do not own The Walking Dead or anything connected to the show, comics, characters etc.**

The Wild Card

XXXXXX

When the end of the world happens, you can find yourself alone and in the darkness you didn't think you would have to confront. Life becomes nearly melancholic, nearly every thought consumed by memories of your previous life. Thoughts can become small memories of familiar faces of those you loved, those of nameless faces you spoke to once, your high school teacher who gave you detention for spitting gum on the ceiling and even the roadie who gave you his rag when you were by yourself crying near the bus. You find yourself trying to live, wanting to survive, wanting to forget those memories that were dark or maybe holding on to the ones that gave you joy, then becoming blissful at the luck you were given when you find other survivors who are maybe doing the same as you. They try to go on, try to live they best they can and trying to bond with the others so they aren't overwhelmed with that nagging loneliness that could overtake them.

Vi found herself on the roof of the RV, using her bat to knock cans off the top while On Golden Pond stood watch with his rifle. A game of golf never hurt anyone, even if you were the only one counting score and enjoying it. Well, maybe Dale was now and then when Vi jumped in the air like a bouncing cheerleader.

"Check that out, Dale. That could have been a few yards. I still got it. Write that down, pretty please and I'll serenade you," pleaded Vi in a singsong voice. Her bat was on her shoulder, the metal and orange tape reflecting in the sun.

Dale gave a small smile then scratched a mark on the table by him with the umbrella over it. He had been hesitant at first, worried over the noise that could attract the Walkers but gave in to the energetic pleas of the redhead in the suspenders and torn jeans. Maybe it was her crooked smile or her spiky bangs that stood up like horns that made him shrug in laughter. The energy was needed and he knew she felt isolated.

Vi placed her bat on the ground near the can, squaring her shoulders and putting her butt in the air. She rocked back and forth, throwing her orange hair back and whistling to herself before breaking into song.

"I'm a Zombie Hunter,

In a zombie world

Decapitating

Is amazing

You can make fun of my hair

Only if you dare!"

Vi swung her bat back before connecting with the can and sending the little metal tin flying in the air. "Fore!" She called, putting her hand up above her brow to block the sun.

"Hey, up there! Dale, we can't have her making noise like that. It could attract Walkers. Remember our rules!" Shane called up with a small tint of frustration.

Dale sighed then looked at Vi. "He is right, Vi. I'm sorry, dear, but you're going to have to find a recreation that's a bit quiet around the camp."

* * *

XXXXXX

Shane felt his blood boil in his veins but he remained calm inside. He remembered his training as a deputy, his new position as leader of the survivors and what his demeanor meant to the group. They depended on him, but this punk girl was pushing it with him. She reminded him of a juvenile delinquent at times. He wondered if she had a record. Maybe her agent and label 'handled' any mischief she caused.

She looked over the side at him, her catlike green eyes taking him in while that unnatural hair floated down beside her face. She bit her lips, pausing before saluting to him and tossing her bat lightly to the ground. She wiped her gloved hands and gave a small whistle to Jim, who was passing by with some tools.

"Jim, I'm sorry to bother you but can you help a gal out?"

Jim placed his tools down, unsure of what her request entailed. Shane was just as unsure and curious.

Vi took a few steps back then jumped off the RV. Jim caught her small body quickly and held her shakily. She smiled while he set her down. "Stage dive!"

Shane shook his head, even as Jim took her outstretched hand and held it. "Thank you, Jim. Sorry for the randomness!"

Vi turned to look at Shane's hard face, bit her lip with an expression that screamed 'Whoops', put her hands in the air, and grabbed her bat. She walked sulkily past Shane, into the RV, only to come out with her smartphone that acted as another appendage to her body. She tripped away, giving a wave, and disappeared into the camp.

"Give her a break, Shane. She's young and lonely." Dale called from atop the RV.

"I bet she is. She don't seem so down," Shane mumbled while walking off from the RV.

* * *

XXXXXX

The woods were spread out, some trees close together and others spread out along the uneven dirt ground. Chips of wood poked at Vi's shoes and stuck in small pieces into her thick socks. Her mind was elsewhere, focused on finding the right playlist on her phone and becoming frustrated when her fingers began to tremble. She came to a halt; digging her soles in the wood chips and letting her lungs take in deep breaths of air. The oxygen filled her lungs, her chest and stomach rising, as her eyes remained closed in concentration. Those voice lessons with Dr. Bonney had paid off in so many ways that she wished now she could thank him. She pursed her lips, letting the stream of air out slowly. Okay, Vi, staccato burst first now a long nice one.

"Whatcha doing?"

It was a child's voice, a little boy.

Vi cracked one eye open then the other. She took in the scene of Carol and Lori hunched over a makeshift table with a young girl and boy. The boy had dark brown hair and curious eyes. The young girl had a short bob pulled back with a clip, eyes down on her book. She looked up once then glanced down quickly. Lori and Carol managed small smiles before focusing on the books in front of the children.

Vi walked over quietly, almost tiptoeing. She knelt down a little bit away from the table and placed her hands in her lap.

She smiled awkwardly then shook the phone in front of her. His brows came together, not understanding her meaning.

"I'm looking for my jams, little man."

He frowned. "My name is Carl. Jams? What is that?"

Lori looked at Carl with that severe motherly look. "Carl."

Vi raised a hand then knelt her elbows on the table after scooting forward. "Yeah, music."

Carl stopped his 'homework' and sat up straight. "Why?"

Vi rolled that question in her head before smiling. "I listen to music. I also play music and make music too."

"Is that why you look weird? No one else looks like you I've ever seen."

Lori gave another severe mother look at Carl then tried to give an apologetic look at Vi.

"She is in a band. Smothering Lolita," spoke the girl in a soft whisper.

Vi gave her a touched look, her smile reaching her eyes before she spoke gently. "Score two points for you…?"

Carol answered Vi's question. "Sophia, my daughter."

Vi held a hand out cautiously. "Hi, Sophia. My name is Vi, but please call me Jacqueline."

Carol bent over, after casting a quick look to the spot where Ed and her family camped. "She can be shy. Her middle school friends were always talking about Smothering Lolita so she wanted a cd. I secretly bought the first one for her."

Vi's eyes widened before she let out a quietly spoke. "Huh, then why didn't you say anything?"

Carol smiled kindly. "I didn't know what you looked like."

Vi chuckled. "Well now you do and trust me, I leave an impression."

Both women nodded in agreement before Carl spoke up again. He scrunched his nose. "You mean, you were in a band. So you don't make music anymore."

Vi looked thoughtful, one finger tapping her chin and her feet rocking in rhythm. "Hmmm…that is half true. I am not in a band but I can still make music. It may be the end of the world but I can still make music, Carl."

Lori motioned at Vi to follow her off to the side. Vi stood with her hands on her hips, phone secure away.

"Vi, Carl and Sophia are trying to do homework and read. Its important they still get somewhat of an education, even now." Lori said evenly, her brown eyes meeting Vi's.

Vi nodded slowly, letting that process. She cast a glance towards Sophia and Carl, who were once again concentrating on their books and scribbling down notes on torn paper. Her mind wandered then settled deep into a part of her memories she didn't like to visit often. Memories of her own youth, of trying to fit into a public school with students who bullied her and slumping far into her seat to be invisible, of losing herself in music class and her English studies so she could forget the bullies and going home. She had ended up being pulled from school at 13 when her teacher and father noticed her aptitude for music, being swamped up by producers and her future record label. She never went to public school again but she never stopped reading and learning, especially when her mother hired a private tutor to help her finish school. Maman told her to always continue learning, to let her curiosity blossom and lead her from ignorance into a fruitful understanding of the world. History, cultures, languages, and the arts above all were most important to remember in her mind.

It seemed odd to remember something like that now, at the end of the world. Looking at the kids before her, she appreciated her Maman's dedication to encouraging her to learn just like Lori was pushing the kids to keep learning no matter the situation or how stupid it might seem now. Vi grasped hold of that memory and an idea that came to her crazy mind. She knew it was crazy, but it was important. They were trying to survive, to keep going like before and what better way than including her idea.

Vi pressed her palms together and took a breath before letting out her plan. "Lori, you're teaching them right? As if school never ended? Right?"

Lori nodded, hesitantly. "Yes, that's important."

Vi smiled then pointed at their homework. "I noticed they aren't drawing, creating pieces of art, learning music, anything like that. That is super important, by the way. I can help with that. I can offer my grand, though a little outside the box, teaching style to give them that. If they never learn the arts, nothing else matters. Art and music is a history in its own beautiful way of the world. What better way to remind them of what this world once was than through that?"

Lori narrowed her brows. "They are reading books, learning math and some science."

Vi rolled her eyes and cocked a hip. "That's all good but without the others…we might as well be animals. I'd rather not be a squirrel that Robin Hood over there catches."

"That makes no sense…"Lori uttered slowly, her arms crossing.

"I hardly do but give me a try. Kay?"

Carol spoke up then. "Lori, it couldn't really hurt."

Vi brightly beamed then knelt at the table. "Hey, if I suck, hit me with my bat."

Lori shook her head then sat down at the table.

* * *

XXXXX

Lori was accustomed to quiet, small town life and to relaxed folks who would bake pies for fall festivals. She had lead a calm life, caring for her children and having a husband that worked for the police. They had problems but life had been decent and something peaceful. It was a sleepy town in the South, nothing too out of the ordinary. The apocalypse had happened, things were dangerous and scattered but now a routine was established and there was order again.

Now, life seemed surreal. The Dixons were wild cards and dangerous, but almost manageable with the men around to keep them in check. Then the bigger wild card came into their quiet camp and, boy, did she leave an impression. Vi, already an unusual name, wasn't run of the mill. She had hair you could spot from miles away, a bubbling laugh and voice you instantly recognized, and manners she hadn't seen anywhere else…well, lack of. She seemed fine enough…but once again, she was a wild card. It spooked some of the campers and made the other puzzled by her way of speaking. Shane all ready wasn't trusting of her and she certainly was playing with fire when she let her sharp tongue lash with the Dixons. Yet, there was something about Vi that seemed amiss…even if she felt sympathy for her treatment by Carol's bastard husband. Lori now waited to see what the wild card had to offer with…teaching.

The petite redhead threw her locks back, tied them in a tangled knot, and took a pencil from the table. She let a smile tug at her pink lips and spoke with that high voice that always seemed ready to erupt in laughter. "Okay, my students, I am going to teach you the most important lessons you will ever receive from a classroom."

Carl looked at her funny. "We aren't in a classroom anymore."

Vi tapped her pencil. "Right, little man. The world is your classroom. Two points. Next question…what have you learned about music or even art?"

Sophia bit her lips before Carl looked up again. "We haven't taken that…I haven't."

Sophia looked up at Vi. "I took art once."

Vi smiled with kindness that Lori didn't always notice. Yes, something was amiss but she was curious now.

"Well, that is a crime not to know any of this. I will be head music and art teacher. The best you will ever have. Why? Because I say so and you will know very soon."

Carl and Sophia looked at her strangely.

Vi changed her face to one of seriousness and began to write in strange scribbles…something like music notes before pushing it to them. "My mother told me music, languages, art…these were the most important to ever learn in life. No matter the age and time. Music and art are like history books. They tell stories of what happened at a certain time, how people lived, how they felt, and what was going on. Languages are important because they helped form what we speak now. I learned French and believe this redhead, there are tons of words we use now that come from France. So think of these things as history, like your books, and ways to show how you feel. Keep creating, no matter what."

Carl. "I used Legos to make forts and I drew cowboys."

Vi snapped her fingers. "Exactly. Cowboys are part of history and express what you like."

Sophia shyly messed with her hands before looking at Vi, smiling softly. "I would draw my family and horses."

Vi reached up to give a high five, which Sophia gave back gently but happily. Lori was shocked. Sophia hardly spoke except with other kids and her parents.

"Right on, Sophia. Horses are beautiful and so is family. Many people have drawn pictures or painted them over long periods of time. Family has always been important and horses mean many things to everybody. Now, I will teach a little about music, why it's important, and teach you guys to even sing some cool songs. Nothing bad, Mom One and Mom Two. You guys will also get to make awesome projects with what's around you. Now this in front of you is what musicians like me use to make music and read it, like a book…"

* * *

Lori motioned to Carol, both standing up and scooting off to the side while Vi spoke in a secret whisper to both children, eagerly motioning with her hands and drawing on the paper in front of her. The children were skeptical at first but were now becoming a little excited at the idea of being taught 'awesome lessons' by Vi. They began to sketch, ask questions about something called solfege and pitch, then listen to Vi passionately speak on why music was important as a means to express how you feel.

"She gets along so well with children. Sophia really seems to like being taught music by her rock star," Carol spoke up with a smile that lit up her eyes.

"I am just surprised Carl is even listening. He never took music. He was always an athlete." Lori replied.

Carol only smiled back.

Lori whispered seriously then, her eyes forcing Carol to meet hers. "She may be an oddball who is good with kids, but she needs to not play with fire and she needs to watch herself around The Dixons. I hear she provoked them again. Daryl is a firecracker ready to be set off any time but Merle is a snake in the grass."

Carol sighed sadly. "I don't know what to say. She's so young and reckless. I hope she becomes more careful."

Lori let out a breath and crossed her arms. "I doubt that. She's a 'rock star' whose been coddled. I don't think she's ever had to deal with conflicts. Only screaming fans and tons of money."

Carol scowled at Lori. "Lori, that is not fair. We do not know her to judge her."

Before Lori could retort, Vi's voice erupted loud enough to make the birds fly from the trees near them.

"Okay, you two. The homework is to think of what we can use for our art project: cans, leaves, branches, anything. Art can be anything you want. For music, I'll keep it simple and teach beats and time. Listen closely."

Vi looked around before clapping in joy. She grabbed two branches on the ground, settled herself in then began a steady beat with the branches. It was slow and even, before her voice started in. Lori didn't think someone that spoke about singing in a punk rock band and sang weird versions of Motown at the lake would sound so…light and even sweet.

"The Parting Glass," Carol said in a whisper, answering Lori's question. "It's a favorite. She sounds so different, like her heart is hanging on all the words."

"Well, she's matching the banging she's making with the twigs. What a voice to come out of someone so…weird."

* * *

XXXXXX

Vi finished the song and threw the sticks to the side, looking from Sophia to Carl. "That is how you match time and keep it even. This might sound ridiculous to learn out in the boonies and the end of the world…but music and art are important if we don't want to be squirrels. Class dismissed."

The kids both laughed and shook their heads. The moms came over and motioned their kids over to walk with them to eat food at an unlit fire pit. Vi called over to Carol before she left, waving a hand at Sophia.

"I have a present for you, little fan of mine. Wait here." Vi winked then sprinted to the RV, a small wave at Dale. She was in and out in seconds. She noticed the burly, sleeveless figure of Merle Dixon near the RV but pointedly ignored his maniacal inbred grin. Vi bent at her knees once she reached Sophia and Carol, holding out one gloved hand. She held out a handmade bow. The bow was white and pink with skulls on it, except the skulls had hair bows on their red pigtails.

"Don't let Daddy see it, but here's a gift to my little fan. Can I see the little bear?" Vi asked gently.

Sophia handed the bear over cautiously. Vi quickly took out a safety pin, stuck in through the back of the bow then pinned it on the bear's chest. "There you go. I made that myself a few years ago. It was an art project of mine."

Sophia took the bear back and let a smile tug on one side of her small mouth. Vi winked and stood to give a big stretch and yawn. Carol mouthed her thanks and led Sophia back with the others, leaving a much happier Vi to skip back to the RV. Well, she was happy until the ever-charming Merle Dixon stood by the door of the RV. He had moved from his previous spot during the one kind moment of the day between Vi and Sophia with intentions to be the best buzz kill ever. Where was her former savior with anger management issues when you needed him? Oh yeah, out hunting like always. Dude needed to keep older inbred brother on a leash…with muzzle. She wasn't his responsibility anyway, as he made perfectly clear in his Georgia twang.

Vi stood with arms crossed and sighed. "Seriously…Merle, was it? I just almost had a good day and you're becoming my buzz kill."

"Honey, I don't have to be no buzz kill. You can share my tent any time you want," Merle spoke with a nasty tone…all while leaning in to Vi's space.

Vi backed away and scrunched her nose. "Pass."

Before she could get in the RV, Merle pushed his arm in front of her and blocked her path. His face was close to hers, so close she could smell his breath and it was atrocious. She hoped she wouldn't die from the fumes. "What are you hidin' in there? I know you are."

Before Vi could respond, Shane and T-Dog luckily heard the commotion as they were passing by to intervene. They calmly told Merle to back down, but the threat of physical intervention was laced in their steady voices. Merle laughed, removed his arm and shook a finger in Vi's face. "I know you hidin' somethin'. I ain't no fool, not Merle Dixon."

Shane sighed and spoke gently. "If he bothers you again, let us know. He's trouble."

"No, he's a douche bag." Vi yelled between clenched teeth. She tried to control shaking hands and her breathing, to little avail. T-Dog squinted at her before becoming calm once more, his eyes once again following the back of Merle Dixon.

"Yeah, he is. Take care. It'll be dark in a few hours," Shane answered, tapping the side of the RV and leaving to join everyone at the fire pit.

"Duct tape that one, Shane!"

Ed.

"Lung cancer!" Vi shouted back while pulling herself into the RV. She ripped at her hair and paced back and forth. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She stopped, one hand slapping against her thigh hard in a rhythm she always used when…these episodes happened. She darted her eyes at her bag before springing at it and digging wildly to find the prescription bottle. She needed both bottles. She unscrewed both, shaking out one pill from one bottle and two from the bigger one. She clasped them her palm and found her water bottle, still courtesy of her concert venue.

She sighed and made her way slowly to the entrance. She let her body sag on the steps, hunched over and rocking. She threw the pills back, closing her eyes and letting the meds settle on her tongue. She opened the bottle top, shook the water bottle and threw the water bottle back as well. The water hit the top of her mouth, swishing the pills around and letting the little things travel down her throat. One more chug and she was done for the day with pills. She let her head lay on the side of the door, closing the cap at the same time and hugging her knees. Her next thought was to join the camp or not, to listen to jams on her little smartphone by the cliff or not? She chose music over the awkward campfire.

She pulled out her smartphone and stood up. She started to walk to the cliff, eyes on the phone and one hand tapping the bottle on her leg. She never saw Merle Dixon by the tree, watching her take her pills like a drunk sucks down his poison. She only saw the spike of signal on her smartphone.

XXXXXX

* * *

**A/N: Hey Daryl and Walking Dead fans, I hope you liked this. I completed this pretty late at night because this has been in my head for a while and I wanted to do it right. I wanted Vi to try to contribute and attempt getting along with the others even if they think she's an alien. Thanks for continuing the ride. **


	7. A Last Dance

**I do not own The Walking Dead or anything connected to the show, comics, characters etc.**

**A/N: Hey, everyone! This is a mini-chapter before the next big one. Enjoy, despite the ****melancholy, and review! Cheers!**

A Last Dance

XXXXXX

Enter world, light unshown

Follow heart, follow home

Here we are, light unshown

One round heart, one round home

Spin the speed of light

Tetrahedron blue

One last paradise

You can make for you

- "Apocalypse Lullaby" by The Wailin' Jennys

XXXXX

The world was over, which meant your previous life you had before had ended. Everything you were doing before it came crashing down, the things you had done, the people you knew, everything in the papers about you, and any record of you was burnt in ashes to only float away. For some, this meant a life you cherished had crashed and would never return to you. For others, this meant a clean slate and a new start away from a grey cloud that hung over you no matter what you accomplished, how far away you moved, or how deep you tried to bury skeletons in your closet. If you were misfortunate to be well known to some of the nation, you worried about the skeletons rising up from their graves. This now seemed literal in this world. Vi wasn't known to dwell or whine about fame, fortune or success. Yeah, she had good PR to help her out but she was talented and coupled with a personality that electrified the crowd even if the personality was somewhat a creation of her own. Oh, she was definitely different but on stage you could be whoever you wanted to be. Now the ghosts were calling to her and she took in a breath to answer the call.

Vi stood on the cliff, hand holding the smartphone and looking at the small bars at the top of the screen. She tentatively hit Contacts and scrolled to her parents' home number, tapped Call. She used a shaky hand to press the phone to her ear and listened to the erratic sounds of the call trying to connect. She hoped she was hallucinating. She had been under the impression all communication was lost except for radios…until the call was answered.

"Hello?" It was a rough, low voice with a light Cajun accent.

"Colton." Vi responded quietly.

"Jacqueline, you're alive. My Cherie," rasped her father. Vi heard him take a swig in the background then return to breathing unevenly.

"Maman, where is she?" Vi gripped the phone, starting to pace and grind her teeth.

"Cherie, your maman isn't well. She was bitten out at the French Quarter."

"Where were you? You didn't try to save her?" Vi started to yell. Silence followed before it all made sense. "You were drinking. You were getting drunk while she was out there getting attacked!"

"Cherie…she's home now but she's not gonna make it. I barricaded the doors and windows. Its worse than that, Jacqueline."

"What could be worse, Colton?"

"I am your daddy, you call me Daddy."

"You ceased being much of a father after what you did to her and to me," Vi spit out, clutching the phone harder. She felt the little screen start to crack and the distant chatter nearby start to quiet down.

"Cherie…I can't reach your brother and sister. The prison…no signal and the Big Apple was overrun. I been scratched, Jacqueline."

Vi paused, the blood running from her face. "What?"

"We aren't making it, Jacqueline. The creatures, more are trying to come in at night. Its almost dark now."

"What are you…but…try…"Vi was trying to not let the lump reach her throat.

"Your maman loved you. We both love you and we were so happy you made it so far. Your maman never liked your tattoos but she kept articles in a scrapbook. She was so proud of you. You were bigger than me."

Vi paused then, letting everything process. She ran a hand down her face, trying to clumsily wipe tears away from her cold face. She was shutting down, her body becoming jelly and her heart beating wildly. She had dealt with the zombies killing her friends, she had dealt with the bus blowing up, and she had found a way to muster the strength to kill her best friend. Everything she had done in the past two days she found some courage to do without breaking down. Now…she found the walls crumble and her heart falling apart.

"I hate you," Vi whispered.

"I know, cherie." Her father choked out before the phone crackled and the sound of wood breaking filled the background. Moans, scratching, and then the sound of a gun firing off filled the silence until the line cut off completely. Vi looked at her phone, her red-rimmed eyes wildly scanning the bars before she redialed. No answer. She tried again.

"Colton! Maman!" Vi screamed into the phone, dialing again and again until the signal disappeared. A few minutes passed and still nothing. She dropped on her knees and fell onto her hands. She was breathing heavily, feeling vomit reach the back of her throat. She swallowed and let her eyes close. It took a few minutes, before she sat back on her legs and sat quietly. The tears had dried, leaving streaks with the dirt. Her hair was dirty and her hands cut from small rocks on the ground. She let herself sit still for who knew how long.

"Vi?"

It was Amy. Her voice was quiet and wobbly. Vi barely cast a glance at her before Amy knelt by her and took a breath. They both knelt there before a few other footsteps followed. Vi turned her head slowly to face Amy and the others who had joined. Dale and Andrea stood cautiously to the side, Dale's face was more concerned and sympathetic than Andrea's. Andrea simply held concern for Amy being so close to Vi.

"Who were you talking to?" Dale asked quietly.

"Colton just let her die. He let her get scratched and now they're dead. He killed her," Vi croaked out.

"You were lucky to speak them one last time," Andrea calmly offered, one hand touching Amy's shoulder.

"He is a bastard. They could have survived. Drunk bastard," Vi spoke but this time with more force. She stood shakily and pushed her hair from her face. She laughed unevenly and kicked a rock, throwing the phone to the ground. "But hey, I guess I'd rather be smashed than sober when zombies try to go for my brains."

Andrea, Amy and Dale all looked at each other with great concern before Dale bravely made a move to touch Vi's bare shoulder. "Come one, honey. Try to wash up and maybe we can get you something to eat."

Vi nodded shakily, letting Dale lead her to the RV. Once inside, he stepped out to get some food for her and she retreated to the shower. The nice bucket of water was cold and she dumped it over her body, not caring about the clothes still on her body. She cleansed herself with soap and used the shampoo she kept inside. She was clean, but she sat in the stall until she started shaking heavily.

She heard a knock, Dale's voice politely asking if she was okay and that he brought food in. She slapped her face to wake up more then reached for a fluffy towel to dry off before making an entrance that wasn't very Vi-like. She picked at the food, not feeling hungry. She felt nothing, until she looked at Dale's wrinkled face and silly hat. She leaped at him and he held her gently, letting her cry her small heart out.

Once she was done, she wiped her nose and tried to punch his shoulder. "Don't tell anyone I did that. I can't have anyone think I'm a cry baby…unless its Johnny Depp's Cry-Baby, then that's totally cool."

Dale chuckled warmly at her and wrapped the towel around her. "We've all lost family and friends. We are all grieving here. No one will think differently of you."

Vi raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh, so they will think I'm actually human…and not an alien? Doubtful."

She paused then and whispered faintly. "It was their last dance, Dale…

Dale patted her shoulder and turned to leave before Vi called out to him. "Hey, I still got my moshing shoes…so that means game of golf tomorrow. You can't be late or I'll sing the most out of tune hits ever! Fire and Rain will become Paralyzed and in Pain. Ha!"

"Sure, Jacqueline. If this helps you with your grief, then I will be on time."

Vi snapped her fingers and tapped her bat. "Hey, On Golden Pond. I don't grieve, I get even. Those zombies best pray they're resistant to Toni Basil and my tubular bat to the face or it's going to really be a bad undead day for them."

XXXXXX


	8. Daryl: The Long Time Traveller

**I do not own The Walking Dead or anything connected to the show, comics, characters etc.**

Long Time Traveller

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When the apocalypse came and the plague hit in waves, society found itself buckling and blowing apart like buckshot to the gut. The government had crumbled, the class system dissipating, and the country nearly reduced to what the world had been ages ago: wild and free. Most found the idea chaotic and difficult, trying to adapt their old lives to a new world where they had to not just fight against the undead but for survival. There wasn't a rich man, a poor man, nothing like before. A man that had been dealt bad cards in life could find this a twisted blessing of some kind. A man could start a life where he wasn't chained down by how poor he was, how uncouth he may come off when coming into town with a dirty truck, and how the people would talk about the boy whose daddy was the town drunk. The ashes from that lit cigarette your mama smoked that burned the family home down were blown away and the smell of whiskey from your father's breath was no longer down your neck when he whipped you with his rusted belt. You weren't that nasty son of a bitch with the foul mouth and muddy pickup truck, yet you were still an outsider and you were still angry.

Daryl wiped the sweat off his brow with a dirt-smudged arm and spit on the grass. He had hiked far from the camp, nearly a day's worth away. He was mad as hell, ready for a Walker as much as for a deer. The lawman was pushing him far, getting too close to pulling the trigger on his temper. He found himself needing to hunt and go camping every few days. No one ever asked where he was off to. They just might as well shrug if they weren't so tense around him, which pissed him off more. That's when his mouth let loose and the fights broke out. So hunting it was then he would come back and ready it for the dinner. He didn't know why he did come back sometimes. He came back for his blood and kin.

Daryl crouched down low, a dusty boot grinding into the head of a gurgling Walker. The nasty thing was still snapping its rotten teeth even after Daryl had come upon the crispy torso. The face was mostly blown away along with some of the neck and shoulder. The creature was a young bastard though, barely a man. Whoever shot it did it up close and with a hell of weapon. Daryl cocked his head to the side, looking at the gleaming piercing on the blackened lip of the Walker. The creature snapped at him, causing Daryl to snap back and raise his crossbow. He lined up his sights and let an arrow fly into the creature's temple.

"Shut up."

Daryl watched the thing go silent and still before he quickly pulled the arrow out to clean on his thigh. He brushed it back and forth. The rhythm was quick at first then began to slow as Daryl's brows furrowed. He looked at his surroundings, mouthing to himself. It wasn't a coincidence. He was close to where he hunted last, near where that strange ginger girl probably had her bus flip. This must've been the best friend who tried to bite her ass.

"Well, now. She really did have the balls to blow your ass away, huh?" Daryl said with a hint of surprise and sarcasm. He'd taken Vi's little story with a grain of salt. She was small and out of her mind, but she wasn't lying about her pierced friend. A friend who had still been trucking till now.

"Survivin' a bus blowin'up and a pierced punk who crawled up to my deer's stream? Damn shame she forgot 'bout your brain, son."

Daryl put the bolt back in its rightful place and set his pack on his back. After he finished tracking his deer and killing it, he would head on back to camp. He would do what he always did: throw the deer near his camp, fix it for dinner, give it to Shane to feed the camp, and listen to Merle's stories. He had nothin' to say to anyone and even if he did, like now, no one would listen to him anyway. He wouldn't know what in the hell to say and no one would know what to say either. They'd do the shrug or move back and he'd tighten up, get angry and camp out in a few days to hunt. Same damn cycle. End of the world or not, he was still a nasty son of a bitch with a foul mouth and muddy pickup truck. The only difference lately? He had made the possible mistake of saving that fiery redhead from certain death and drug her to camp. At least he wasn't the only one stirring up the camp and pissing the lawman off and for that he could be thankful for that crazy ginger girl.


	9. Bad Reputation

**I do not own The Walking Dead or anything connected to the show, comics, characters etc.**

* * *

Bad Reputation

XXXXXX

An' I don't give a damn

'Bout my bad reputation

The world's in trouble

There's no communication

An' everyone can say

What they want to say

It never gets better anyway

So why should I care

'Bout a bad reputation anyway

"Bad Reputation" by Joan Jett

XXXXXX

* * *

If some men and women are dealt bad cards early in life, then there are those men and women born with bad cards all ready in their pockets. No matter the façade they put on, no matter their station, no matter how well they could blend…there was simply a type of scarlet letter on their breast. They could paste on a goofy smile, they could smooth talk and charm, or they could create music that masses would love…it was armor, an escape from that scarlet letter and the beast scratching inside their body. It simply happened that others seemed to connect to their music, their words, or their paintings without ever knowing deep down the truth behind the work the person created. The artist, man or woman, would still fight those demons born in them each day with whatever they could. When you couldn't create, you found other outlets to avoid screaming at walls or hiding in your closet from the world. Sometimes the outlets proved dangerous and unhealthy. The bad cards born in you soon became bad cards you earned. Bad reputations could follow from brawls, drinking, damaging property and erratic behavior in public.

Some could be blessed to have someone to cover these up, others not so much. No longer was the girl a person born with bad cards living in a home full of deep pressure to live up to their parents' achievements, surrounded by alcoholic brawls and broken emotional shards but now transformed into a girl known for eccentric tastes, behaviors, and a beloved rocker chick to young women around the nation. Tweak, pluck, gloss over any details and create whatever others decided on the girl…under the surface of glitter, there would still be the girl born with bad cards and a bad reputation living in a glass house.

* * *

XXXXXXX

The night had passed quickly, the creeping sun entering through the window of the RV. Vi was curled up in a corner with a blanket over her messy hair and tucked into her body. As soon as the bright sun hit the top of the blanket, she let her dry eyes crack open and her shaking hands pull the blanket down from her face. She looked at the sun wearily, yawned and stood up to survey her surroundings outside the RV window. Everyone was up and she heard talk outside. Another day in the camp, which put a damper on her mood. Time to face the small towners and the Deliverance twins, which she now planned to avoid. Everything was topsy-turvy in her brain and inside her body. There was no handling them now, but if she had to then she would be damned if she backed down. She was Vi Montrand, former front woman of Smothering Lolita and the only one to rock gemstone anklets with torn tights without fear.

She looked into her bag, grabbed her new look for the day and changed. She looked over herself, turning this way and that until she gave a thumb up in the bathroom mirror with a wink. The black slubby shirt with the added flair of a red tie combined with her light blue boyfriend jeans and black Doc Martens improved her depression. She snapped her fingers and yanked out a small red headband. Perfection.

"You still got it, kid." She spoke in the mirror before making mock guns with her hands and whispering 'Pow'.

She put her bag by the side of the entrance and opened the small door, hopping outside to face everyone else. She took out the heart shaped glasses she had conveniently grabbed and put them on. Now she was really stylin'. Everyone was busy, going about his or her daily routines. She twirled around, taking in her new world. This would not do…not for her right now. She looked up and waved at Dale, a beaming smile on her face. She crawled up awkwardly onto the roof and then paused in horror.

"I forgot my bat. Its golf day." She smacked her head in horror.

"I placed it by the chair and I all ready have three empty cans for you," Dale spoke with a kind smile and pointed to her taped bat.

"Oh, On Golden Pond, you're the most awesome old dude ever." Vi grabbed her bat then lined up the cans. She took a few practice swings at ghost cans then stretched.

"Oh, Vi. I took the additional step of speaking to Carol and Lori about your absence from your teaching. I thought it might be a day to refrain and let your mind settle, if that is all right with you."

Vi shrugged. "Yeah, that's fine. The kids are wonderful bundles of sunshine but my mind just isn't one to focus today. Now time to gain some yards."

She set her body and swung hard at the middle can, sending it flying off the cliff. She counted the yards to herself before slapping her leg and laughing. "Wow, that was a record. I might have beat Tiger on that one."

After a few more sailing cans, a pounding on the side of the RV was heard and the recognizable voice of Shane yelling at the two on the roof. "Vi, I warned you before. The noise will alarm the Walkers to our settlement and that will not be tolerated."

Vi sighed and grabbed her tie, pulling it up past her head and let her tongue dangle out of her mouth. "Do I get the death sentence or the switch? I think you're supposed to read my rights, first." Upon seeing the veins popping out from Shane's neck, she sighed and dropped her bat. She gave a quick salute at Dale and jumped down, landing on her butt. After a quick dust off, she stood in front of Shane with arms crossed behind her head.

A face off began, the silence tense and nearly deafening. The campers near them dropped what they were doing and watched the face off. Shane held his ground, arms crossed and his eyes darker than ever in rage. Vi twisted side to side, her mouth in a crooked line before she sighed in defeat. She rubbed her temples, feeling the beast inside rumble and roar, and looked at Shane wearily. "Take my joy away, won't you? Girls just can't have fun around here. I'll behave then. I'm sorry."

"Vi, I'm going down to the lake to fish. Do you want to come and try to help, maybe?" Amy called out, rushing to the scene. She let her eyes dart to Shane then Vi. Shane nodded sharply and stomped off, cursing under his breath.

"Sure, Barbie. Let's find Nemo," Vi agreed, with a raise of her shades and followed beside Amy. She looked ahead but did a double take. She swore she saw Merle Dixon by a tree close to the RV…must be her mind playing tricks. "Hey, Barbie. I'll try and fish for a bit, but I need to get back soon. You know, girl stuff."

Amy nodded slowly, understanding. The secret code between women was one long understood for centuries that required little speech. Unfortunately, she didn't understand the war raging in Vi and likely never would.

XXXXXX

* * *

"Down the street I'm the girl next door…blah blah…cherry bomb," Vi hummed to herself. She let her crossed legs dangle off the side of the boat and her elbows hold her upper body up. She had long given up fishing after her line snapped twice. She had winced when Amy frowned at her failure to tie a knot and resigned her role to simply become entertainment. Wasn't that her former job anyway?

The sun was bearing down hard on the little boat causing sweat to roll in streams past her chin. This shirt was a bad idea, but then so was sitting by Amy, who sat with calm determination and focus on finding a decent sized fish to bring back to the camp. Silence proved to be torture for the former rocker who found such silence to be the opposite of relaxation. Vi was used to noise, which was a great distraction for the tornado humming inside her mind.

"Vi, you shouldn't provoke Shane like that." Amy said quietly in between knot tying.

Vi pulled her shades down. "First its do not provoke Daryl Dixon then both Dixons and now its Shane. Bad reputation gained or not, just haunts me wherever I go. My luck just doesn't get better."

"Huh?" Amy questioned, letting her fingers take a break from her small knot.

"Nothing, Barbs. I'm burning up and not in a good way. I hope you don't mind but I need to get back to land." Vi replied quickly with a weak laugh.

"Um, sure. I caught enough for breakfast."

Vi gave a smile that didn't reach her eyes and felt her insides shaking inside. She felt her concentration dwindle from her role as jester, her attention span lessening to that of a speck and her mind barely comprehending any of what Amy had been chattering about. She was trying to hide her hands, creating small fists then releasing them. The deep breathing exercises she had taken silently between jokes and songs had stopped working. She needed her pills now before she felt herself combust. She couldn't let the tornado whip up to the point of explosion. She wouldn't let it happen, not here and not now. There wasn't a PR guy to save her, no Tristan and no Maman to speak to or hold her close. She was alone in this new world and she wasn't sure if that was a comforting thought. What would Ripley do?

* * *

XXXXXX

Vi trudged quickly in long strides past Amy up the little hill, her eyes on the RV. She was counting in her head and cursing inwardly at herself for not taking her pills earlier in the morning. She couldn't afford to miss her pills lest she feels the side effects and her little demons that lived like a parasite creep out. Vi's lips were thin and tight. She tried hopelessly to breathe deeply, in and out. She ignored the eyes on her. She ignored everything around her and focused on the few steps to her bag in front of the RV. It was only then after nearing the bag close enough to see the shiny buttons pinned on that she let a quick gasp leave her small body.

Her bag, once closed and neatly tucked by the door, was now open on the grass. It looked as if it had been torn through with her items spilling onto the dirt. Her blood ran cold, pounding in her ears and temples. She felt her vision waver and dizziness come over her.

"No, no, no, no…"She murmured under her breath, her steps turning into a sprint to her disheveled bag. She knelt and rummaged through her bag, digging around for the most precious items in there: the pill bottles. They were gone. She grabbed at her hair and let her grimy hands scrub down her face. It was then she heard the whistle at her.

"Hey there, baby! Looking for somethin'?"

Merle.

Vi unfurled herself slowly, her eyes on Merle. She ripped her shades off, dropping them on the ground. It was then she noticed his twisted features and his large hand shaking her pill bottle at her. She gulped and shook where she stood. She walked over guardedly until she was close enough to smell his sour body odor. Her nostrils flared as she cut her eyes at him with warning. Fear began to creep up her spine, but she tried to maintain some semblance of bravery with a cocked eyebrow.

"It's not polite to go through others' things, you know?" Vi tried to say, the sarcasm and confidence nearly forced in her tone. She held her hand out.

"You know, I knew you were a strange little ginger with that attitude an' little weird look. Tryin' to be skip around and thinkin' this is still some stage you can dance on. Looks like you had somethin' to hide, huh baby girl?" Merle spoke, his tone smug and sarcastic with an underlying layer of threat.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Give them back, Merle. Now." Vi beseeched, her anger seeping through her words. The fear was becoming more evident in her body language.

Merle's observant eyes seemed to notice this and he barked in laughter. He looked at the bottle and unscrewed the top of it, taking one pill in his large fingers.

"So I heard daddy is a little alcoholic? Isn't that somethin' huh? And a coonass to boot? I bet you take these to forget daddy or maybe your agent fed ém to you like candy."

Vi felt her chest tighten, her hands shaking. She froze up, not knowing how to respond. The lump in her throat returned. She kept her eyes on the pill between his fingers, watching him crush it in one squeeze before he threw the pieces on the ground.

"Don't do this! You don't understand!"

Merle took out another pill and pushed off the tree he was on to take steps near Vi. He circled her like a predator with his prey. Vi fought back tears then reacted without thought. She lunged for him, trying to grab the bottle. It was fruitless as Merle let her grab on his arm for a few minutes before tossing her back like a person bats a fly away.

"You inbred bastard! You don't want to do this right now. Give it back, please," Vi begged.

Merle laughed and continued his steps back toward the camp, throwing her pills one by one onto the ground. He watched with glee as Vi fell to the ground to pick them up desperately. He almost wished for a lawn chair to pull up and watch the show. He shook the bottle, taunting her and tossing some more on the grass.

"What in the hell is going on here?"

Shane.

* * *

Shane stood warily, exchanging looks between both Vi and Merle. Both were on their toes and throwing daggers at each other with their eyes. Shane knew Merle was a piece of trash, worse than his quick-tempered brother. He also knew Vi was just as feisty, but that was really all he could gather from her. The thought that bothered Shane deep down in his belly was that he really didn't know this small girl with the hair that fell like flames down her back. The less you knew, the more you were suspicious.

"Merle? Vi?"

Vi sneered and tilted her head. "He took some stuff of mine he shouldn't have."

Merle kept a poker face before chucking the bottle at Shane, who caught the pill bottle in both hands. Shane held the bottle away from his face and knitted his brows, trying to read the label and the name on it. He didn't recognize the name of the patient, but he could recognize the drug. He had taken a course on scouting out signs of drug abusers, what to look for in a vehicle, on their bodies, and what sort of drugs most abused along with the street names they used for the drugs. This drug was one of the ones the users sold on the streets.

"Klonopin?"

"That ain't all, lawman. She's got some more stashed too, street drugs. Bunch of boys from 'Nam got hooked on that after PTSD kicked in down the road. We got ourselves a druggie."

Vi's face paled but she recovered quickly to point a finger at Merle. "I think Agent Orange must be your best friend. I am not a drug addict."

Shane sighed, reading the bottle again. "Vi, the name on here reads Jacqueline de Ravin."

"My agent thought it wouldn't be wise to use my name so they used a different one, keeping my original name."

Shane let that sink in, trying to understand the situation. The fear was evident on the girl's face along with anger and desperation. He saw a terrified girl in front of him, her body shaking and eyes wet with tears that threatened to fall. This was Vi Montrand, the normal person and not the sparkly rock star. Shane let his police training kick in then. Merle was a bastard, a seedy one, but there was too much evidence now…

"Vi, I've heard this all before from drug abusers. I need to confiscate your other drugs and make sure you aren't a threat. I need to make sure you aren't high right now and that you aren't a threat to the camp."

The glass house shattered then. Vi felt the shards fall and cut inside, leaving gashes and wounds deep enough to let the demons roam free. She felt all clear thought blur and rage take over. She sprinted at Merle then, only to be grabbed around the waist by Shane. She clawed and tried to throw elbows to no effect. The screams and curses flew wildly from her ragged throat. Merle stood not far away, laughing. He was laughing at her. He had thrown the last stone to break her and now she was sentenced. No one was here to defend her. The looks from the campers who had rushed to watch the scene were those of shock, fear and condemnation. Lori, Amy, and all those who she thought were friendly held hands over their mouths. Lori even pulled the children away as more curses poured from Vi's mouth.

"Hey, let her go! Shane, Shane!" Dale tried to shout, his old body trying to push against the other men blocking him.

Vi felt blood trickle on her arm and a curse erupt from Shane as she felt bone connect with bone. She took the opportunity to fall on the ground and crawl towards Merle. Shane shouted for a man named T-Dog then. Strong ebony arms grabbed her legs while Shane wrapped his hands around her upper torso to yank her up in the air.

"You can't do this! You're gonna listen to that inbred monster! No, no, where am I going?" Vi shouted wildly before feeling a kerchief being tied around her mouth. She kept shouting in a muffle even as the men led her from the camp to a patch of trees a couple feet from the camp. She kept shouting until her throat ran dry as they called for rope and pushed her against a tree. They finished tying her around the tree tightly, the rope digging deeply into her skin.

"You are gonna stay settled here until the withdrawals come and go. We won't have drug addicts here causing fear and disruption. Sorry, Vi."

The tears fell then. Vi's eyes went bleary and she eventually closed them against the sun. This new world was a nightmare she wished to wake from. The demons tore at her as much as the dirty rope did. Shane had branded her with a fiery scarlet letter for all to see in the camp on top of the invisible one she had hid for so long. The cards were thrown out on the table for all to see. The biggest heartbreak for her was there were no closets to hide in and no skin to put on to escape the tainted mark she had the misfortune of being born with.

* * *

**All questions will be answered in the next chapter. Daryl interrogates Vi...and finds out some answers about Vi and unearths some secrets that will shock him.**


	10. Are You Going To Kill Me?

**I do not own The Walking Dead or anything connected to the show, comics, characters etc.**

Are You Going To Kill Me?

XXXXXX

The trees were dark and haunting, canopies of gnarled hands and sharp nails hanging overhead just waiting for a small breeze to let them twist ever lower to graze and tangle into Vi's tangled greasy hair. The burn of the dirty rope had long ago dulled from a sharp pain to a numb feeling where she couldn't recall having arms. Her bleary eyes were crusted with mascara or what was left of it. Her vision was simply that of shadows and foggy images of the trees or dark figures that lingered for seconds, minutes, or maybe hours.

She couldn't remember past the blurry images that shook in her head, sometimes in front of her. Images of her Maman calling her from her room where she spent most of her time playing on her guitar and entering her room to tell her dinner was ready, her ruby lips pulled into a smile and her French perfume lingering even after they left. She could smell it now in the woods as well as the bleach the first time she colored her hair orange and red after skipping choir practice when the kids laughed at her pink leather jacket. It burned her eyes in the dark woods. More images, more hallucinations played through her head and in front of her like an old reel of film her sister would play for her. She could barely remember Shane trying to give her water from a canteen and some meat, just the feeling of spitting it out past her chapped lips and her heavy tongue. She could barely make out his headshake in dismay or when he pulled Amy away when she tried to visit. He wanted everyone to stay away until the withdrawals passed. What he didn't know was these weren't withdrawals but symptoms that worsened each hour she couldn't take her medicine. Vi let her head loll and her hands unclench. The fight had left her and all she had were images of Maman smiling, her brother poking her in the side before he left for Seattle to join the music scene, and her perfect sister sending postcards from New York City that she read on the bus. They would be comforting if she wasn't feeling so dead. She waited for true madness to take over.

* * *

XXXXX

Daryl had arrived early in the morning, dragging the carcass of a young buck behind him. He had spent the past few days hunting and trying not to think about the camp, strangling Shane, his old life, and Vi. He wiped the sweat with one arm from his face, trudging on until he heard the sound of glass and metal crunch underneath his boot. He paused and let his eyes narrow to peer down upon the object under his foot.

He dropped the buck and knelt down, grabbing what looked like a broken phone. His hand reached out and gingerly inspected the phone until seeing the design on the back. It was a zombie cartoon of Hello Kitty. He smirked to himself but paused when realization hit him. This was Vi's and knowing her obsession with music, there was no way in hell she'd let this out of her sight. It was damaged even before he had stepped on the little smartphone. Somethin' had gone down at the camp while he was gone and he was goin' to find out what the hell happened.

Daryl pocketed the phone in his jean pocket, stood quickly to drop the buck, and took long strides all the while sweeping his eyes to look for the person who would have the answers. He easily found the lawman and ignoring the wary looks of the campers, stepped within inches of Shane. He snorted and swiped his nose before speaking sharply. "So where's the ginger at?"

Shane's face was that of stone before faltering upon seeing Daryl's anger written deep in his brows. "Merle found evidence she was a danger to the camp."

"That little thing?" Daryl snorted.

"Daryl, she had drugs on her. She's being withheld until she can pass the withdrawals and then we're going to hold a meeting to discuss what to do afterward."

Daryl shifted from foot to foot, his shoulders hunkering forward before speaking louder this time. "Where you holding her at? I could've told you somethin' was up."

"We tied her up to a tree not far from here," Shane spoke matter of factly.

Daryl looked off to the side, nodding all the while, and started his short trek to where he imagined the ginger girl was being held. No one questioned him while he charged forward into the trees except the old man when he tried to start to sputter some bullshit to Shane about not letting him near Vi. Fuck that, he was going and no one was having any say otherwise. He had had a sixth sense she was trouble and now it was true. What Daryl encountered when his eyes found the unusual redhead was enough to make him wince inside and wasn't what he expected in the least: a dirty, pale and parched Vi tied to a tree.

* * *

XXXXXX

Daryl's footsteps became quiet and slow, no longer so angry and fast, when he came upon the redhead sitting with her legs pulled up to her chest and her matted hair flowing in tangled waves past her knees. Daryl cautiously tiptoed closer, almost like he would a deer in fear of startling it, and let his body lean against a trunk opposite her.

He pulled out his knife to pick at his nails, unsure of what to say, when Vi lifted her head from her scraped knees. Her forest green eyes, once fiery and bubbling with laughter, were bloodshot and dull. The only thing resonating from her was sadness, anger, and pain. He shrugged and thought he would be too if his stash was taken.

"Been keeping some drugs huh? I knew you was trouble and here you are now. The lawman would lock your ass away if this wasn't the end of the world. The drugs would explain how fucking crazy you are," Daryl finally spoke, letting his words bite hard.

He saw her grimace before closing her eyes and turning her head away so he kept picking at his nails. "I bet you got away with the drugs as a little rock star. Probably were pumped with them when you first started."

He found himself pushing his lean body off the scratchy tree and walking the few steps to squat inches from her body. His eyes cut to the rope digging into her arms, her normally pale skin an angry red with occasional wounds, and also to her chapped lips and the dark circles under her eyes that looked almost like bruises. He wandered what Shane and the boys had been doing before Vi rolled her head back to look at him, her long lashes glistening with tears and her eyes moist. One single tear fell down her dirt stained cheek as she let her eyes make contact with his.

"Are you going to kill me?" Her voice was almost a whisper, a raspy one, but a whisper nonetheless.

"What?" Daryl asked, caught off guard.

"I thought you were here to kill me. None of them would listen to me so I thought they had all ready gone and had their own Judge Judy, without me. Inbred bastards," Vi let the last words out in a hiss but the underlying bitterness didn't get past Daryl.

"Words, ginger." Daryl growled.

Vi dropped her legs and let her head fall back, an empty laugh leaving her belly. "What does it matter? I'm all ready dead anyway. You're just here to finish it off."

She looked at him then and raised an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile tracing her lips. "I thought the waterboarding and Gitmo tactics were going to finish me off, but nope. Instead it's been slow and without my medication…it's been the worst form of death." She narrowed her eyes then and looked at him with curiosity. "You weren't told? Out of the loop, much?"

Daryl huffed, not letting the truth of her words shake him up about no one ever telling him much of anything unless he barged in on a conversation. He threw his arm in the air carelessly before quickly changing the subject. "So what are the pills for huh? Getting high? Blood pressure?"

Vi looked down, clearly uncomfortable until she let her body relax and another tear fall. "My confession: I have severe anxiety, bipolar disorder and a bit of PTSD. I've been taking them since I was young, just under a false name due to press and paparazzi. Can't let anyone know Vi Montrand is a raving lunatic with an alcoholic father and a brother who tried to…" Her voice lost its sarcastic edge and disappeared completely. Her eyes locked with his once again, a deeper sadness filling them.

Daryl darted his eyes to the dirt, the knife in mid twirl in his hands. His mind was jumbled, a huge crazy whirlwind of thoughts and feelings. He felt like he had gotten a shot to the belly or shocked by cables. He thought he had everyone figured out, but here he was surprised by the small ginger girl in front of him with flames for hair and a mean love for boxers and bats who happened to be someone he had also accidentally saved. He wasn't sure what to think or feel, just that it brought back memories of irons, belts, and the smell of Southern Comfort on his daddy's breath. He also remembered being afraid once, but now he was angry most the time or on his toes. Right now he was angry.

"There's my confession, my former savior. I guess you're my executioner now though." Vi tried to say with a laugh but it died in her throat.

Daryl looked over his blade, bringing it close to her face, and leaning in close enough to smell something sweet like strawberries mingled with blood and sweat. She closed her eyes softly, waiting for the blow. Instead he snorted and swiftly cut through her ropes. He growled at the rope. That son of a bitch was dirty, rough and tight.

"You're not killing me?" Vi asked quietly, her eyes tearing up once more.

Daryl coughed and grabbed her bicep, pulling her up. He didn't realize exactly how light and frail she was. He remembered her weighing more. "No."

Vi clutched his side hard, digging into his ribs. He felt her legs give out so he quickly lowered his shoulder for her to throw her arm around his neck. Inside, he was screaming at himself to run away and felt his skin prickling under her touch.

"Why?"

Daryl hefted her up more and began walking. She tried hard to keep in step, failing, but he heard her grind her teeth and push her sneakers forward alongside his boots. "Why you gotta ask so many damn questions?"

He finally saw a familiar quirk of her upper lip, right in the corner that he had usually seen before a quip or joke. She opened her mouth to speak but grunted in pain and dug her nails in harder. He had to resort to dragging her through the woods. By the time they reached the camp, Vi was fading in and out of consciousness. Her skin was cold and clammy along his neck. Her head lolled against his chest, where his heart hammered away furiously.

"The hell?" Shane asked with wonder, his head turned to look past Lori by his side.

Daryl shook his head slowly in warning and kept moving, his body burning up and muscles sore. The old man had dropped his rifle upon seeing Vi and made his way down the RV to run over to Vi. His face was full of sadness, regret and shame. Damn, right, thought Daryl before carefully lifting Vi's arm and dumping her into Dale's waiting arms.

Daryl observed Vi one last time, looking for signs of life after her breathing had become shallow. Her lids fluttered open and she locked eyes with him the same way she had in the forest. Her lips pulled into a weak grin before she winked at him. Daryl let his eyes follow her, even as she was pulled inside the trailer and he saw Dale wash her face. He had to drag his eyes away and turn to his next destination. He passed through the camp with determination, the anger radiating off him in waves.

Merle sat by the campfire, a smug grin on his face. He moved to sit up and speak, but Daryl had beaten him to the punch. He reared back and slammed his fist into Merle's jaw, feeling bone connect with bone. Blood trickled from Merle's lip that he touched angrily with his fingers.

"Over a ginger girl, little brother?"

"Fuck you."

Merle barked in laughter.


End file.
